


In Dreams We Promise

by GavotteAndGigue



Series: Dreamscape [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), The Sandman (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, Jason-Centric, M/M, Other/Dick Grayson, Other/Jason Todd (past), Past Rape/Non-con, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-10-29 12:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 68,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10853595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GavotteAndGigue/pseuds/GavotteAndGigue
Summary: The Bat Family has a funny relationship with Death.  Somehow, they always seem to come back from the dead, and unbeknownst to Jason, it all started when he made a deal with Death that he doesn’t even remember.  When a mysterious power rises and kidnaps Dick, can the Bat Family pull together to rescue him? And can Jason remember enough of his bargain to fulfill his end of the deal when Death comes calling again?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mish mash of canon’s, including from the Under the Red Hood animated movie, and pulling mostly from New 52 and Rebirth Jason and Dick, some pre-flashpoint stuff…  
> It takes place Post Red Hood/Arsenal but before the Rebirth RHATO.  
> This is a Jason Todd-centric story, but I am pulling a lot from The Sandman series, and while it would be helpful to know and understand those characters, I’ll try and make it so that you don’t need to know all the background around them. Just know that the Endless: Destiny, Death, Dream, Desire, Despair, and Delirium, are kind of god-like beings that are siblings, and that reflect different aspects of existence.  
> This is a Jason/Dick story, and there is some Other/Dick, Other/Jason, but Jason/Dick is the main pairing of the story.  
> Sex happens! Be warned.  
> Be warned of major non-con scene in later chapters, mention of dub-con.

“Please, can you help her? She’s hurt!” Jason knelt by his mother’s bloody form, but there was little he could do at this point, with his own actual body buried several feet under the rubble.

“She’s dying, Jason. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m here for you, too. You were very brave, but time’s up. Well, in a few more minutes for your mom at least.” The woman was dressed all in black, with dark hair and pale white skin. Jason thought he should probably be afraid of her, but he wasn’t. She looked young and if he had to put a number on her, he’d say mid 20s, but he could tell that she wasn’t some random young woman. She was old. A word popped into his head: Endless. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he said angrily. “Why can’t you take her now then? She’s suffering!”

“She still has something to say. I’m going to let her say it,” the woman said casually.

“Fuck this! Fuck you! This shit is so fucked… .” Jason stood and tried to pull himself together, but he didn’t know what to do. He was dead. Fucking dead, blown up by the king of all asshats, the Joker. Killed by a fucking clown for godsake, and he couldn’t even protect Sheila, his birth mother, who now lay dying at his feet, and he couldn’t do anything to help. He couldn’t even touch her. He was dead. Fuck!

“Jason, calm down. I’ll let you say bye to your mom once she’s ready, but you and I need to talk and I can’t do it if you’re still freaking out.” The woman was behind him now, speaking in a soft, soothing voice, and Jason felt the flight response drain out of him. She was doing something to him, Jason thought, but at the moment he didn’t care. Jason turned around to look at her, really looked at her this time. She was wearing some kind of necklace, with a symbol -- an ankh -- around her neck, but other than that Jason thought she looked kind of like a she was going to a goth club.

“Do you want to go back, Jason?” The question surprised him, and he looked away from her to think. He looked down at his mother, still dying, laying on the ground. He felt grief, he felt shame, he felt angry. His life was such a royal clusterfuck. No, there was no going back, he thought. He was irredeemable. Maybe the woman was going to take him to Hell for this, after all he had gotten himself and his mother killed. He probably deserved it. Best to disappear and stay dead than go back.

“No. No I don’t. I don’t fucking want to go back. All this,” he said, waving his arms around, “was absolute shit. I want… to move on… I guess, if that’s what you call it. Shit, Bruce is gonna be so pissed.” He realized the absurdity of it. He was dead, but he was still worried about his mentor’s disapproval. After a moment, he added, “is he going to be okay? Bruce, I mean.”

“I don’t know Jason, that’s not really my gig. More my sister’s realm.” She was holding his hand gently now. His hand that was no longer a mangled, bloody limb buried under a pile of concrete. He supposed something about being in the afterlife had put him back together, or he somehow had the presence of mind to not project himself as a bloody corpse. 

“Jason, what if I said that you could go back, but not right now? That I need you to do something for me, and that it will let you save your family, as well as mine?”

She wanted something from him, and that started setting off alarm bells in his incorporeal brain. Hadn’t he just died because his birth mom tried to make a shady deal? Hadn’t this whole fucking shindig with Batman and Robin been some kind of messed up deal as well?

“What? That doesn’t make sense, I don’t have a family. I mean, there’s Bruce and Alfred, but they’re not… I thought you were -- Can you even do that?” He stumbled on his words, not knowing what to say. He was dead, and Bruce and Alfred had been important to him, but he’d never used that word. Never said it aloud. Family. He thought about Catherine, his mom who raised him, when it had just been the two of them when she wasn’t high or drunk out of her mind. He thought about his birth mother, Sheila, who lay dying at his feet, whom he had tried to save. All he had ever wanted was a family, but he wasn’t sure he ever knew what that really meant.

“Can you really--? I mean, aren’t you--?” Jason continued to stammer. He was starting to lose his shit again. This situation was beyond his coping skills and the only other person around was talking nonsense.

“I am,” she said, responding to his unfinished question. “And you do have family, people who care about you. You do and you will. Bruce, Alfred, you’ll have brothers, and someone who loves you. You can have all of that if you agree to go back. Someone else will try to bring you back to life, and I don’t have to send you, not if you really don’t want to. I’m giving you a choice, but if you choose to go back, it's going to be hard. Like incredibly, heartbreakingly hard. And you’re going to hurt the people you care about a lot you before you can help them.”

“What the fuck? Lady, I don’t have any brothers or whatever. And hurting people to help them? That sounds like a raw deal!” Jason yanked his hand out of her grasp and whirled on her. He was about to open his mouth to tell her to fuck off, but a hard look from her stopped him. He hadn’t expected Death to look like a cute heavy-metal groupie from the 80s, but as soon as he saw her after the explosion, after the walls came tumbling down on top of him, holding out her hand and calling his name, he knew who she was. She couldn’t have been anyone else at this point. Death. The Grim Reaper. Holding his hand and pulling him out of the rubble with a friendly smile on her face.

But not now. Right now she looked pissed and impatient. Like the look Alfred gave him when he had done something wrong. He was literally staring Death in the face and he had tried to mouth off on her. Stupid. 

“Sorry, I just don’t understand,” said Jason, quieting. There was something about her presence that was calming. Like an older sister, the thought crossed his mind, even though he never had one.

Her demeanor softened, and she replied, “Its ok. You’re not the first angry brat I’ve had to deal with, and I’ve got my methods.” Her smile was light and genuine this time. “Okay. Let’s try this again. I can’t tell you everything, because I actually don’t know. I just know that I can give you this choice, and if you decide to go back, you won’t remember what we agreed to. Not if you’re going to do what you need to do. But we’ve got some time before you go back, so you can think it over.”

“Um, ya. Like that’s not totally vague?” said Jason, with as much snark as he could muster. “So what is it exactly that you want me to do?”

“Let’s go some place else to talk.”

Just then, Jason heard a low rumble. A car. The batmobile. Batman. Bruce was finally coming. Too late to save him, but he was finally coming. Jason was still standing on the pile of rubble, not physically, but in whatever-the-fuck ghost state he was in, and he realized he had been waiting. Waiting to see Bruce one last time. He watched as the batmobile skidded to a halt, Batman frantically jumping out of the car and running toward the rubble. Jason didn’t think he’d ever seen Bruce so frantic, it was kind of funny, in a really morbid way. 

Batman found Sheila first, and immediately began assessing her injuries, trying to save her life, but it was pretty obvious it was too late. Sheila was trying to talk, struggling to use her last breaths to speak to Batman.

“Come on, let’s give them some privacy,” said Death, pulling Jason away. Jason followed her reluctantly, and watched from some distance away as Batman finally laid his mother down and closed her eyes. 

“Okay, you stay here, I’ll go get Sheila.” Death walked over and returned shortly with Sheila in tow. In death, his mother looked a mess, she stared fixedly at the ground as she approached Jason, only looking up when she came to stand right in front of him.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and quickly looked away, not meeting Jason’s eyes. He didn’t know what to say, his emotions threatened to boil over and he knew if he opened his mouth he would explode. He stood staring at her for a long moment before he managed to collect his voice enough to reply.

“I forgive you,” Jason said. He surprised himself as much as he did Sheila, judging by the look on her face. He wasn’t sure why the words just tumbled out. He hadn’t even really been thinking them. He had been thinking about how angry he should have been feeling, but somehow wasn’t. Funny how his mouth always seemed to move before his brain did, because once he said the words, he felt incredibly relieved.

“Jason,” it was Death, behind him again, and as he turned away to glance at her, he heard a flutter of wings. When he looked back at Sheila, she was gone.

“What’s going to happen to her?” asked Jason.

“Another aspect of me is taking her to where she needs to go. It’s not up to me to decide,” replied Death. “Come on, let's go. You and I need to talk. I need you to do something for me, and if you agree, when the times comes, I’ll send you back” said Death, tugging lightly on his hand.

Jason looked back for Bruce, and stared transfixed as he pulled Jason’s body out of the rubble, his shoulders trembling. Jason had to look away. 

“Okay. Okay,” he said, trying to pull himself together. “You’re telling the truth? I’ll see Bruce again?”

“Yes. You will, but we need to talk someplace else. Now, let’s go.” She took his hand and led them away.


	2. Chapter 2

~~~~ Years Before~~~

_As he does nearly every day, Destiny spends much of his time walking quietly through his gardens, a cloaked and hooded figure following endless paths that meet as often as they diverge.  His blind eyes can see nothing save for the pages of the ancient book he holds in his hands.  His book is as much a part of him as he is merely a reflection of the book, and in its endless pages, he holds the inevitable journeys of all who live and die.  Sometimes he is afraid to turn the pages as these paths unfold before him.  Sometimes he is delighted, and on occasion he is anxious.  Today however, for the first time in an eternity, Destiny is surprised when, as he lifts his fingers to turn over a new leaf, a page falls from his book, landing on the soft grass of his garden._

_“Strange,” he mutters, feeling trepidation and uncertainty as he bends down to pick up the errant page._

_As he looks down at the page, he sees a story unfolding, not in words, but in small tiny pictograms.  A young boy dies in a fiery explosion.  He sees his sister, Death, come to collect him.  Oddly enough, she does not take him as she normally does.  Instead she brings him here, to this very place in Destiny’s garden._

_“I see,” says Destiny, “it seems I must speak to my sister.”  He turns to walk back to his palace.  When he reaches a hall lined with several large portraits, he stops in front of the visage of a pale woman with dark hair dressed all in black._

_“Sister, I stand in front of my gallery and I call you, will you come speak with me?”_

_There is a short pause, a moment’s breath, and then a sliver of light appears, and the pale woman in the portrait slides into Destiny’s hall._

_“What’s going on big brother?” says Death, her tone is light, but with a hint of worry.  Its not often that Destiny calls, and when he does, it usually means something is going to happen._

_“Sister, a page has fallen from my book.  This has never happened in all eternity.  Come, you must see.”  He hands her the page, which she takes and inspects.  The beginnings of a story unfolds, and she sees the pictures of herself, and of the boy.  She sees them speaking with Destiny in his garden._

_“This hasn’t happened yet,” she says, puzzled.  “What does this mean?  You don’t normally give us hints of what comes next.”_

_“I do not know, my sister, but when the time comes, bring this boy to me.  His name is Jason.  Jason Todd.”_

 

~~~~ Now, years later~~~~

 

Jason woke with a start.  After quickly scanning the room in his safe house for threats, he relaxed a bit, settling back onto his spartan bed with a sigh.  He had had a strange dream that he was talking to some goth chick and another pasty white figure with eerie black eyes.  It ended with him feeling angry and desperate about something, but he couldn’t remember the details.  He had a vague memory of him arguing with the goth chick about Dick of all things, but the memory was fading quickly.

_ “ _ Typical _ ,”  _ he thought to himself, “it always comes back to Dick.”  It seemed like he was always angry and desperate about something, even things that he couldn’t remember, and lately he had been angrier with himself because he was spending more time with Dick.  Or rather, Dick was trying to spend more time with him, now that he was hanging around Gotham semi-permanently.  Dick had seemingly taken that as an open invitation to barge into his life, dropping in on him when he was patrolling as the Red Hood, and following him home like a lost puppy, even though Jason had tried to switch safe houses several times.  It wasn’t so much that he was angry at Dick for being so pushy, but more at himself, because the more time he spent with Dick, the more his teenaged fantasies of his “older brother” were returning, and that was only leading him down a road of frustration and unresolved sexual tension that he DID NOT need in his life right now.  

As far as Jason could tell, Dick was straight, and no amount of pining, wishful thinking, or late night fantasies that ended with him jerking off to imaginings of Dick’s face and naked body would change the fact that his feelings would never be returned.  Jason sighed, his heart rate was still elevated from his dream, and he ran through a breathing technique a few times to get it back under control.  Jason felt tired.  His dreams made him feel fucking tired.  Waking up made him feel fucking tired.  And Dick Fucking Grayson made him feel tired.

The small apartment he currently lived in was dark with blackout curtains drawn around the windows, but a quick look at the clock by his bed told him it was past one in the afternoon.  As usual, he had been out late the previous night as the Red Hood, but this time he had been called in by the Bats to help deal with a black market trading ring dealing in illegal tech.  His relationship with Bruce was better these days, probably the best it had ever been since he came back, with both of them still trying to establish a level of trust and Jason refraining from killing more often than not.  He had been slowly coming to terms with his anger, hurt, and betrayal, and it was still there, he was just managing it better.  Lately though, with Kory having been out of the picture for a while, and having left Roy some months ago after that disastrous rescue, Jason was actually missing working with a team.   So when he got the call to assist the Bats (though he would never admit it out loud), he was actually quite willing to jump into the fray knowing that he had the others to watch his back.

Last night he had met up with Bruce and the rest -- Dick, Tim, and Damian -- at the cave, and from there they had split into teams to scout three different locations that Bruce had suspected would be the site of a black market exchange the following night.  After regrouping, they had narrowed down the site to a small warehouse down by the gotham docks, and he was expecting a packet from Tim later with the mission intel for tonight.  He had a few hours to kill though, so Jason rolled out of bed, threw on his favorite hoodie, and dragged himself out in search of food.  It had been a busy few weeks, and Jason had only moved into this particular safe house a week ago, so he hadn’t had time to restock with any decent food.  He had emergency stashes of MREs and canned beans, but that was about it.  It seemed like it was time to go to the market.

An hour later, with a bag full of groceries and a deli sandwich in hand, Jason found himself walking the main drag back to his apartment.  He was right on the edge of the Narrows, where the gentrification and urban hipsters from Burnside were starting to trickle over with new overpriced cafes and dressed-up dive bars establishing themselves along the strip.  The drug dealers and street walkers had largely cleared off during the day, with the new money in the up-and-coming neighborhood also demanding more police presence.  But the street kids still hung around, hoping to nick a few more designer purses, or beg a few extra dollars from the newly moved-in 30-somethings.

Jason was about to cross the street to the next block where his apartment was, when he noticed a small figure huddled in an alleyway.  As he moved in a little closer and he realized it was a girl.  Late teens, or early twenties maybe.

_ Probably a runaway _ , he thought.  She had her face huddled down into her knees, but he could see brightly colored hair, several piercings, and even though it was still winter, she only had on a raggedy shirt and baggy pants.

“Hey,” said Jason, “you ok?  Are you cold?”  There was a slight movement beside her, and he saw a scruffy dog emerge from behind her as he approached.

The girl looked up when he had spoken and peered at him through strange different colored eyes. 

“OH…! I know you!” she said suddenly.  “We spent some time together.  I know you.  Hi!  Its been a long time!”  Her voice was odd.  It was kind of shaky and nervous, and oddly pitched, as if she were singing her sentences, instead of just saying them.  

_ She might be strung out on something _ , thought Jason.   _ Its either that, or she’s unstable.   _ She didn’t seem like much of a threat though, so Jason decided to press a little more.  It could be pretty harsh out on the streets, and if there was some way he could convince her to get someplace warm he had to try.

“Um, hi.  I don’t think we’ve actually met, but do you have some place to go?”  Jason tried.  Her eyes were darting between him and the edge of the alleyway, so Jason made sure to kneel down to the side to give her an escape route if she decided to bolt.

“Nnnn… no.  No thanks! I’m fine.  My brother-sister is coming for me.  I was supposed to wait here.  But… its OK.  I have Barnabas here with me... he’s taking care of me.  He is… a good doggie.  Isn’t that right? Aren’t you a good doggie?”  With that she reached out and scratched at the dog’s ears, earning her a sloppy kiss in the face from the dog.

“Are you sure?  I can call someone for you.  I know a doc at the clinic not too far away, she can get you set up some place safe if you don’t have anywhere to go.”  It had been a while since he’d spoken to Doc Thompkins, but she always knew where the best shelters had openings, and she’d be able to suss out whether or not the young girl was indeed unstable or if she needed drug treatment.

“It’s ok, Jason… I’m fine.  He… she is coming any minute now, I’m sure…” she said, putting on what Jason thought looked like a pretty fake smile, before he realized with a cold tingle up his spine that she had said his name.  He hadn’t told her any name at all, let alone his  _ real  _ name.

“Wait, what did you call me?”  

“You’re Jason!  I told you, we spent some time... together... after you died and came back, remember?  Oh that’s right, you don’t remember. Haha!”  With that she giggled, covering her face a little, but Jason was spooked.  Did he meet her after he crawled out of his grave and before Talia picked him up?

“When was this?  What do you remember about me?” said Jason.  She was looking mostly at the ground or at her dog, and Jason was doing his best not to grab her and force her to look at him, but he didn’t want to scare her away.  

“Oooooh.  You were all inside, Jason,” she said, tapping on her head.  “Hehe.  You walked around like a zombie, it was funny… except you didn’t think so…. Not really…. But you and me… yeah.  And my sister was with you too… you and her were like this!”  She held up a hand with her fingers crossed.

“Your sister?  Is that who’s coming here for you?  Can I talk to her?”

“Hehe.  Maybe… not that one… but D--, I mean my other, uh, sibling...  he… she is right… there!” and the girl pointed behind him.  

Jason nearly jumped out of his skin.  He hadn’t seen or heard the figure approach, which was a serious feat given his bat training, but when he turned around there was a man standing almost on top of him.  At least he thought it was a man.  Up close it was harder to tell, and he or she was dressed rather androgynously, but his… or her… face….  Save for Dick Grayson, he’d never seen anyone so stunningly  _ beautiful _ .  

Jason was still kneeling on the ground next to the girl, and the man (Jason found it easier to just think of the newcomer as a “him”) looked down at him with what Jason would have pegged as a mischievous smirk.  

“I see you’ve found my sister,” he said.  His eyes were a strange golden color, with a predatory look that put Jason on edge.  Slowly, Jason stood up to face the newcomer, not taking his eyes off him.

“Hey kid,” Jason said, turning his head slightly to address the girl.  “Is this who you were waiting for?”  It wasn’t unusual for pimps and controlling boyfriends to come collecting, and Jason wanted to make sure that the girl would be safe with the newcomer.

“Yes, its time… I have to go now.  Its ok, Jason,” she assured him.  “Des… I mean… my brother-sister will take care of me…. They’ve all been taking care of me lately… I’m never alone for long….”  With a final “Goodbye, Jason!” the girl got up and marched out of the alley, followed quickly by her dog.

“Hey, wait!”  Jason made to go after her, but the man suddenly caught his arm.  

“It’s alright, I’ll catch up to her,” the man said.  He paused after having spoken and merely looked at Jason with that little smirk on his lips again.  Jason suddenly wanted to smash his fucking pretty face in.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Oh, you know me a little bit.  And I’ll tell you this, you’re going to get what you want pretty soon.  It's been a long time coming!”  The man abruptly let go of his arm with a laugh and followed his sister around the corner.

Jason just stood there gaping for a moment before he managed to collect himself.  “Hey, I said wait, where the hell are you going?”  Jason turned the corner he had seen the pair go around, but was stunned to see the street completely empty.  Had they ducked into another alley? Gone up onto the roofs?  But there was no way any normal person could have moved that quickly.  The man had at most been a second or two ahead of him and the nearest alleyway was a hundred feet away down the block.

Jason spent the next several minutes scouring the street, hopping up onto the rooftops to scan the skyline as well, but turned up nothing.  The experience was unsettling, but the strange girl and her brother (or was it her sister?), were gone.   Warily, Jason took a roundabout way home to cover his tracks back to his apartment.  There wasn’t much else he could do now other than make himself some food and wait for Tim’s intel for the night’s mission.


	3. Chapter 3

~~~~ Years Before~~~

_ Jason didn’t know what to make of it.  He was standing in a garden.  A freaking huge garden.  Bigger than Alfred’s carefully manicured hedges at Wayne Manor.  And he was standing there with two strange people, if he could even call them that.  One was the woman whom he had learned was Death, and the other she called her brother, Destiny.  He was a tall hooded figure holding the most enormous book he had ever seen.  There were giant statues around as well, and two of them looked like the two figures he was currently standing with.  Jason felt small and ridiculous.  He was still dressed in his Robin costume, and he felt out of place and completely out of his depth, but there was no where he could run.  Death had whisked him here through some kind of portal, and she had asked him to stay put by a sort of courtyard for a moment while she fetched her brother. _

_ They now stood talking quietly at the other end of the courtyard, and the man, Destiny, was waving a piece of paper around.  It looked like a page from his book, but Jason couldn’t tell for sure.  After a few moments, they started to walk over and Jason went rigid, not knowing what to expect. _

_ “Its okay, Jason, we just need to talk to you,” Death said, gently patting his arm and moving to stand beside him.   _

_ “Jason, please, welcome to my garden.  I know we are not meeting under the best circumstances, but something is happening and you are involved.  I am Destiny, and all that unfolds in this universe is written here in my book,” the man explained, gesturing toward the large tome.  “However, it seems a piece of the puzzle has come loose, and you are at the center of it.  Here, come see this,” and he handed over the piece of paper. _

_ And indeed, it appeared to be a page from the book, and Jason stared in awe as the tiny pictograms slowly appeared on the page.  He saw a boy dressed as Robin, a depiction of himself he assumed, emerge from a fiery explosion with Death. He saw a Sheila disappearing in a gust of feathers, and Death leading him up to this very moment as Destiny handed him the piece of paper he was staring at.   _

_ It kept going however, and there was a picture of a boy crawling out of a grave, and then pictures of a bunch of stuff he didn’t understand.  A man with a red helmet running around shooting people, shooting at Batman, and at Nightwing, and shooting at Robin…. was the helmet man going to try and kill him again when he went back?   _

_ There were more confusing images he couldn’t make sense of.  Sometimes the man in the red helmet appeared talking to Death, along with another figure all in white with dark eyes, but they never appeared when the man was running around shooting people.  At the bottom of the page, there was a woman with brightly colored hair, and another person (he couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman), falling before a dark cloaked figure.  The page ended with the dark figure clutching a fallen Nightwing.  The back of the page was blank. _

_ “What is this?  Someone tell me what the fuck is going on!” Jason exclaimed. _

_ “Whatever’s on that page, that’s all I know,” replied Death.  “Destiny won’t tell us anymore.  All I know is that something is going to happen to two of my siblings, and to your… Nightwing, and that you’re somehow involved.” _

_ Jason looked down at the page again with horror, the realization dawning that the man in the red helmet was supposed to be him.   _ _ He _ _ was the one in the red helmet who was running around shooting people--  shooting at Bruce, and Nightwing, and another Robin.   _

_ “It looks like you have a rough patch with your family, but eventually you make up,” Death interrupted, as if reading his thoughts.  She pointed to a picture of what looked like Bruce pulling a young man into an awkward embrace, and then to a picture of that same young man with Nightwing in a decidedly less awkward but extremely compromising position.   _

_ Jason flushed to the tips of his ears.  Having his personal crush-come-reality depicted on some kind of magic piece of paper was extremely disturbing, not to mention embarrassing.  Death didn’t seem bothered though, she just looked at him expectantly. _

_ “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?  How do I stop this from happening?  How do I stop myself from… from killing people?  Now that I know, can’t I just not do it?” _

_ “No.  I’ve looked at that page closely Jason, and when you go back, you won’t remember that we’ve talked.  You won’t remember seeing this page, except when I come to talk to you, and I do so only when you’re dreaming.”  She pointed to a picture of the man in the red helmet speaking with Death, with the third figure he had seen earlier in white.  “That is our other brother, Dream.” _

_ “This doesn’t make any sense!  If we know what’s going to happen, we can change it!  We can make it so nobody dies, so that nobody gets hurt!” _

_ “Jason, it is not that simple” Destiny cut in suddenly.  “All paths are interconnected, and no matter what you choose, some paths will always come together at some point.  I can’t tell you what will happen, but I can tell you that following the path laid out here,” he pointed at the page, “will lead to the best outcome for both our families, with the least pain, and with the least disruption to the order of the universe.”   _

_ Jason wanted to argue, but he didn’t know what to say.  How do you argue with Destiny?  How can you argue with Death?  And they had said they were going to give him a chance to go back.  He was going to go crazy apparently, and kill a lot of people, but Death was standing right next to him, and she didn’t seem too bothered with having to collect a few more souls.  Plus if what was on the page was true, he would have a chance to fix things and save both their families.  Could he really say no? _

_ “Ok, let me think.  I’ll do what I need to do,” Jason said, mustering as much confidence as he could.  “But I have a few conditions.” _

_ Death smiled, looking slightly amused.  “Ok, Jason.  Let’s hear it, but first, why don’t we go sit down.” _  
  


~~~~ Now, years later ~~~

Dick’s POV:

Dick Grayson was a man of action.  He regularly jumped off buildings only to figure out his landing mid-flight.  He got into his best flow-state when he could just improvise.  He rarely hesitated.  He was someone who just DID and figured the rest out later.  Sure, he could plan and plot like the best of them, and he didn’t jump off buildings without having years and years of training, preparation, and numerous fail-safes to fall back on -- you would expect no less from someone having lived and been trained by the Batman -- but his natural preference was to ad lib when he could.  

Except when it came to Jason.  Shooting from the hip with Jason could literally mean getting shot.  Probably in the face too, if you caught him in one of his Pit-induced moments of manic.  His prodigal brother could be prickly and mercurial even at the best of the times, and Dick found he often had to think, plan, and reconsider his actions with Jason more so than he normally would with any other person, even Bruce.  One wrong thing said could trigger Jason into retreat and cut off contact with the family for weeks, if not longer.  And it would take no small amount of coaxing and groveling to get back into his good graces.  At least for Dick.  

Tim seemed to have a much easier time staying on Jason’s good side, and it frustrated Dick to no end.  It seemed that lately Jason was avoiding him more than usual, and he wasn’t sure why.  Their last patrol together had gone pretty smoothly.  He thought that they were even actually having fun together, trading quips and banter all while kicking the asses of the latest mafia goons who had tried to set up shop in Gotham.  Afterwards, Dick had followed Jason home to his safe house.  They had gorged on takeout together, and Dick had found himself crashed on Jason’s couch the next morning.

He was enjoying spending time with Jason.  Probably enjoying it a little too much, he had to admit.  It still stunned him sometimes how much Jason had grown up.  How much he had grown  _ period _ .  Jason had filled out from being a gangly teenager, and his formerly wiry frame was now replaced with broad shoulders, muscled arms, strong thighs… aaaand that was the problem.  

Dick was attracted to him.  Strongly.  

People often teased Dick about his pretty-boy looks, but Jason was far from being a slouch himself.  He had the bad-boy look down pat, complete with matching scowl and intense bat-glare.  That was the thing with Jason - everything was intense.  And while it would be hard-pressed for anyone to call Jason “pretty,” his strong features were definitely extremely  _ handsome _ .

Yeah… he thought it was going pretty swell with Jason, even with Dick’s inappropriate feelings of attraction notwithstanding.  That is, at least until he went back to Jason’s safe house a couple days later only to find that Jason had packed up and left shop.  It had taken Dick another week of detective work trying to figure out where Jason had gone to ground, before he broke down and finally asked Tim.

To his credit, Tim didn’t give Jason’s location up easily, and he was pretty sure he didn’t even half convince Tim that he needed Jason for a mission.  Nevertheless, Tim relented and relayed the intel that the Red Hood had been spotted a few times at the edge of the Narrows recently.  Dick had managed enough self-restraint not to show up on Jason’s doorstep immediately, which probably would have sent him into full flight mode again.  So Dick tried to bide his time, looking for a reasonable opportunity to show up at Jason’s without seeming like a creepy stalker.

He was a little surprised to see that Jason had responded to Bruce’s call to action the previous night though.  He hadn’t even realized that Jason and Bruce were in contact, but supposed Jason was making himself more available since his split with Roy.  They didn’t have much time to talk however, Dick had been paired with Damian and Jason with Tim to scout out the different locations.  Fortunately though, the mission gave Dick an excuse, albeit a pretty flimsy excuse, to stop by Jason’s apartment before tonight’s crackdown to go over the mission intel from Tim.

And now, Dick wasn’t sure what he wanted coming to Jason’s apartment.  After disabling the alarms, Dick found that Jason wasn’t home, and now he was sitting on his couch, fiddling with his phone, and hoping that Tim had actually given him the right location and he wasn’t sitting in an empty safe house when Jason had already moved  _ again _ .

Dick had been sitting there, lost in thought and almost dozing for a better part of an hour, when suddenly the door burst open with a loud crack.  Instinct kicked in and he dove for cover, but not before the figure at the door was across the room and aiming a gun at his face.  He realized quickly he was staring down the barrel of a gun with a very angry, and then surprised looking Jason behind it.

“Jeez, Dick! I could have shot you!” Jason said, dropping the gun and tucking it back into a holster under his jacket.

“Sorry, I would have called, but you haven’t been answering me the last couple weeks,” Dick picked himself off the floor, and dusted himself off.  “A little jumpy are we?  Something happen?”

“I noticed someone had messed with my alarms before I came in.  And on my way back, something…” he trailed off.  

Dick waited to see if he would continue, but Jason seemed to dismiss it with a shake of his head.  Instead he moved to go back toward his now busted door.

“Thanks a lot Dick-face.  Now you get to fix my door.”  Jason came back into the apartment carrying what looked to be a bag of groceries, setting them down in a small kitchen.  He rummaged under the sink a moment before pulling out a case and handing it to Dick.

“Fix. My. Door.  There’s some extra wood over there.”  The case turned out to be a toolset, complete with a small drill and staple gun, and there were indeed some two-by-fours stacked in a corner.  

“Really Jay?  I’m not exactly Mr. Woodshop, you know.”

“I don’t care.  I’m moving tomorrow anyway. Just nail the whole damned thing shut for all I care,” Jason said, dismissively.  He seemed irritated, but not overly upset at Dick for having ambushed him in his latest safe house.  If anything, Jason seemed a bit rattled about something.

“Look, I’m sorry I came in unannounced.  I just thought we could go over the intel for tonight from Tim together.  I can nail your door shut and go if you really don’t want me to stay.”  Dick felt guilty, but he had learned the hard way that he needed to give Jason space.  He was really hoping Jason would relent though, as he didn’t want to have to hunt him down again after disappearing for another few weeks.

“It’s fine,” Jason said with another sigh.  “I can make us something to eat.”  Dick’s heart did a little jump for joy at that, but then Jason continued, “might as well use up these groceries before moving again.”

“Jay, you don’t have to move on account of me.  Look, I won’t bother you anymore….”

“No, it's not that Dick-face. Not everything’s about you!” Jason said half mockingly.  “I think someone might have recognized me.  You know, from  _ before _ .  I don’t think this place is compromised, but I should probably move out from this part of town.”

“I can help, if you want.  That way I don’t have to track you down again.”  Dick tried to lighten the mood up a bit, and it seemed like Jason was actually receptive to some banter.

“Ha! You’re so full of shit, Dick.  I know for a fact that Tim tipped you off.  But fine, you have no idea how hard it is to lug two hundred pounds of ammo across the rooftops, and I’ve already had to move enough times ‘cause of you.”

“Maybe I should let you do it yourself.  I noticed you’re looking pretty cut these days,” Dick said, wagging his eyebrows perhaps a little too flirtatiously, and for a moment he was afraid he’d made a misstep and Jason would respond harshly, but he only arched a brow and laughed.

“Whatever.  So what’s the intel from Tim?  Did you bring your gear? Or do you need to run home and put on your makeup before going out?”  

Dick responded by pulling up the hem of his shirt, revealing a glimpse of his Nightwing suit under his civvies.

“Always dressed for the occasion!” Dicked grinned, and to his surprise Jason grinned back.  

Jason was opening up to him. He wasn’t kicking him out of his safehouse even though he had broken in, he was making dinner, and most importantly, Jason hadn’t shot him in the face.  

  
_ Seems like this is going to be a good night after all, _ Dick thought.


	4. Chapter 4

~~~~ Years Before~~~

_For all intents and purposes the room Jason was sitting in looked like a normal living room.  The room was moderately sized, and the decor was simple, yet modern.  It had a couch, pictures on the walls, a coffee table, and a couple chairs - the kinds of things you’d normally expect in a modest home, except Jason knew it was anything but.  He had ended up here after following Death through yet another portal, and she had promptly asked him to take a seat and make himself at home._

_Jason sat awkwardly on a small armchair, and tried to relax, but his mind was still reeling.  The thought crossed his mind that maybe he wasn’t really dead, and that maybe the Joker had cracked his brain a few too many times and this was all a massive hallucination.  Maybe he was actually lying somewhere in a padded room...._

_“Nope, you’re definitely dead.”  Death re-entered the room carrying what looked like a tray of cookies and a glass of… was that milk?_

_“What, are you a mind reader too?”  Jason was feeling a little snarky.  When all else failed, he snarked, and good god, had everything utterly failed.  The thought that she could be seeing his every thought added to his edginess._

_“Not exactly, but let’s just say I’ve been doing this for, oh, more than a few millenia.  I know that ‘maybe I’m not really dead’ look.  I can spot it a mile away,” she said, smiling at him as she set the cookies down._

_“I’m not just some random kid you can pull the wool over with milk and cookies, you know.”  Jason eyed the cookies suspiciously, but in the end, fuck it.  He grabbed a damn cookie.  Its not like she could try to kill him with it right?  He was already dead._

_She gave him a curious look before starting, “You_ _are_ _a kid.  And let’s not get into who can pull wool over who’s eyes, because need I remind you how you got dead in the first place?”_

_Jason was cowed, but he didn’t have to like it.  He had stuffed a cookie into his mouth, and god, they were almost just like Alfred’s cookies!  There wasn’t much he could say either without blowing chunks of cookie everywhere.  He might be dead, but he still had some dignity, damnit!_

_“Anyway, let’s get down to business shall we?” she continued.  “You said you had some conditions.  So talk.”  She was rather direct, but her demeanor was easy going and friendly at the same time.  Jason felt the tension in himself easing a bit, and he took a moment to swallow his cookie and think before he replied._

_“The page, it shows me shooting people, but I don’t want to hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.  I don’t want to kill anyone who’s innocent.”_

_“That’s easier said than done, Jason.  I come for people when it's their time, not whether they deserve it or not.”_

_“I won’t kill anyone who’s innocent.  You can’t put that on me.  And plus, won’t that like, damn me to hell for eternity or something?”_

_“Eh, I’ll make sure you get a pass for this Jason.  Special circumstances and all,” she waved a hand in the air dismissively.  “I guess I can make that work.  Ok. Done. Anything else?”_

_“My mom, the one who raised me… Catherine, she died when I was young.  You took her I guess.”  Jason took a breath.  It still hurt to think of his mom.  He had loved her, and he knew she had loved him back, even if half the time she was higher than a kite.  “Can I see her?”_

_“No,” Death said solemnly.  “She moved on.  I’m sorry, Jason.”_

_“Okay.  Fine.”  Jason tried to hide his disappointment, but the sympathetic look Death was giving him told him she knew how he felt anyhow._

_“So this new family,” Jason went on.  “Is it Bruce? And Alfred?  I want time with them then.  Everything… everyone that’s ever meant something to me… they got taken away too soon.”  Jason took a deep breath, trying to quell a sudden burst of overwhelming sadness.  He wasn’t sure what he wanted, he just knew that he didn’t want to bear the grief of parting again.  He opened his mouth, and he was talking again, the words just tumbling out.  “If anything ever happens to my family, if any of them die and they want to come back... if there’s any way at all, you help them do it.”_

_She arched a brow at that. “So basically, you want me to keep a revolving door open for your family?  That is not going to be easy, kid.  And it's bound to ruffle some feathers.  You are one ballsy kid, you know that?”_

_“Can you do it or not?”  Death wasn’t the only one who could be direct, thought Jason.  If he was gonna make a deal with Death, then he wanted something only she could do.  He didn’t wanted to play for pennies, he wanted something substantial out of this, and the only thing he had ever really wanted in life was a family, and he’d be damned if he went back to have them taken away too early._

_“Look,” Jason continued, “I’m not asking for immortality, and I’m not asking you to not let anyone die.  I’m just saying, if there’s a way, like there is for me, you do what you can to help them go back, just like you’re doing for me.”_

_Death was quiet for a moment, but she was looking at Jason rather discerningly.  It was unnerving, and Jason could only think that in a strange way he was being dissected by her gaze._

_“Fine.  Done.  There might be consequences, but it can be done.”  After a pause she added, “you could have asked for immortality you know.  I’ve done it before.  And it would have been way easier.”_

_“Living forever, that’s not what I want.  Life is pretty shitty actually, and I would have been fine moving on if you hadn’t brought this whole fucking thing up.  If I’m going back, I just want the chance to…” Jason paused.  What did he want? To feel loved? To love someone back?  Jason wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted, he just knew he didn’t have it._

_“I just want the chance to know what having a family is like,” Jason said finally._

_“You are a strange one, Jason Todd.  Sometimes family is not all that it's cracked up to be, but you do what you gotta do.”_

_“So, uh, do I have to sign something?  Like in blood?  Don’t tell me I have to sign something in blood, because you know, I’m already dead,” Jason joked.  He was starting to get a feel for Death, as awful as that sounded, but somehow she was making him feel comfortable in her presence._

_“Ha, and a funny one too, aren’t you?  No blood. You just have my word, and that’s as good as you’re gonna get.”_

_“Now,” Death continued, standing up, “if we’re done negotiating, let’s get you out of that godawful costume.  Green panties? Seriously, what were you thinking?”_

_“Says the chick who looks like a KISS groupie.  You know they stopped dressing like that in the 80s right?”_

_“Touche, Jason.  Touche.”  Death feigned a wounded look, and started walking out of the room, beckoning Jason to follow.  “And don’t call me a chick.”_

_Jason followed her, because what else could he do? You can’t argue with Death, right?_

 

~~~~ Now, years after, Jason ~~~

The intel from Tim included a mission plan that, as expected, paired Nightwing with Robin, since there really wasn’t anyone else who could even remotely keep the kid in line, while Red Hood, Red Robin, and Batman were stationed at several strategic points in the warehouse.  The exchange was to happen at midnight, and they were to wait until Red Robin could get photos and video footage of the exchange to turn over to the police as evidence, then the others would move in to take them down.  Red Hood and Batman were positioned inside the warehouse close to the exchange point, and Nightwing and Robin were posted near the water on the dock to secure the the merchandise coming in on a small ship.

Tim’s sources had indicated they were dealing with a cache of illegal tech stolen from Lexcorp.  There hadn’t been time to get an exact inventory, but the intel was that it was from Luthor’s defense arm so they were probably dealing with some heavy firepower.  They had to be careful, because when the “shit went down,” as Jason liked to say, there was a good chance that the goons wouldn’t hesitate to break out the merchandise and use it on various members of the Bat Family.

Unsurprisingly, the mission didn’t go exactly as planned.  There were more goons guarding the merchandise than they had anticipated, and they had started to undock the boat and flee.  Despite the heavy guard, Nightwing and Robin were making pretty good progress and Nightwing had even managed to board the ship.  Then one of the goons managed to snatch some kind of gun from the crates of merchandise and started firing at Robin.  

Robin dodged the shots easily, but he didn’t have a lot of room to maneuver on the pier beside the ship.  He also hadn’t counted on the effect of the small device the gun was actually firing.  Upon hitting the ground, the device exploded, emitting some kind of halo that seemed to draw everything around it towards its center.  Robin was already ten feet away, but the device projected an unseen force that immediately pulled him back and anchored him at the center of the halo.

“Gah!” cried Robin over the comms, “I am compromised and cannot move.  They are firing some kind of gravitational well!”  

“Hang on Robin, I’m coming!”  Nightwing responded.  

“It appears to have a fifteen foot radius, if you come too close it will draw you in too,” Robin assessed.  Despite his cool tone, the strain of struggling against something was clear in his voice.  “Stay clear of the halo.”

“Any intel on how to shut down the device?” Nightwing asked.

“Try a localized EMP,” Red Robin’s voice came through this time.

“I don’t have any on me, not enough pockets,” Nightwing quipped back.  Jason was listening in on the comms, and he could detect the slight anxiety in his voice.  If Robin was indeed anchored to a single spot, he was a sitting duck.

Red Robin had been closest to the the exchange point inside the warehouse since he was the one taking photographic evidence.  He was still in the thick of it with Batman, and he wouldn't easily be able to extricate himself. Jason however, was close to an exit.

“I’ll go give the demon-brat cover, I can be there in a few seconds,” Jason cut in, shooting one last guy in the foot with a live round, and sprinting toward the dock.

“Thanks Hood.  These guys on the ship are giving me a run for the money.  Cover him ‘til I get there,” said Nightwing.  

True to his word, Jason made it over to the docks in a matter of seconds.  Robin had somehow managed to take out a few thugs that were shooting at him with exploding batarangs, but he was completely exposed, and Jason could see Nightwing running across the deck of the ship trying his best to draw fire away from Robin.  

Jason parked himself directly in the line of fire between the goons on the ship and Robin and returned fire.  If Robin couldn’t move and take cover, then Red Hood himself was going to be that cover.  He gasped involuntarily as a bullet clipped his shoulder, and then staggered as another one glanced his thigh.  

“Red Hood, you idiot, you’re going to get yourself killed standing in the open like that!” Robin barked.  He was pinned to the ground by an unseen force, on top of what Jason presumed was the gravity well device.  Even so, he still managed to be a haughty little shit.

“Not if I take them out first!”  His body armour deflected and prevented the glancing shots from penetrating, but it still hurt like a bitch, and a direct shot would have still knock him flat.  Fortunately, the docks were not very well lit, and the goons were lousy shots coming at Jason from an angle.  There wasn’t much else Jason could do until Red Robin got his ass out here and took care of the gravity well.  And as much as the little demon-brat rankled his nerves, he wasn’t just going to hide in a corner and let him eat lead.

“No killing.” It was Batman on the comms this time.  “And be careful, Red Hood.  Your armour can only take so many hits.  I’m wrapping up in the warehouse, Red Robin is on his way.”

At that moment, Jason saw Nightwing emerge at the far end of the ship, dodging a rain of bullets and diving behind a crate.  Jason took aim and provided cover fire but his position was limited given his need to cover Robin.  Still, he managed to take down all but one of the goons, who managed to duck behind another set of crates at the far end of the ship.  He was focused on Nightwing however, firing a seemingly endless spray of bullets at the crates Nightwing was using for cover.

Jason moved to get a clearer shot. With the last goon focused on Nightwing, Jason could move his position without endangering Robin.  He started down toward the end of the pier, firing cover shots as he ran, ignoring the burn of pain where the bullets had previously impacted his arm and leg, and saw the man pull a strange gun and take aim at Nightwing.  

“Nightwing move!  He’s aiming a gravity well at that stack of crates!”

Nightwing leapt out from behind the crates, but it was too late.  The device exploded on the top crate before teetering and falling over the edge of the ship.  Nightwing hadn’t quite cleared the radius, and the pull of the gravity well was enough to topple him over the bulwark.  Jason watched in horror as Nightwing tried to to grasp the side of the ship before being dragged down into the dark water by the gravity well attached to the crate.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Nightwing’s in the water!” Jason managed to yell into the comms.  He took a moment to aim one last shot at the last goon that had gotten Nightwing, downing him with what was unfortunately a rubber bullet, before sprinting back down the pier toward where Dick had fallen in the water.

“Hood, wait, you need an EMP or you’ll get stuck down there too.”  Red Robin had finally appeared and was running to meet him.  Jason grabbed the EMP device out of his hand before continuing his sprint to the edge of the pier.  

“Jason, I haven’t tested the EMP on the gravity well yet.  Keep your comms on”.  Jason barely had time to give Tim a nod before he shed his jacket and dove into the water.  He turned on his helmet’s thermal sensors and tried to follow a straight path down from where he saw the crate sink.

A few moments later, Red Robin’s voice cut into the comms again in Jason’s helmet, “Ok, it worked on Damian, he’s free.  When you get to Dick, let the gravity well pull you in before triggering the EMP.”

Jason didn’t respond.  His helmet acted as a short-term rebreather, but he didn’t want to waste any air.  The water in this part of the docks was not incredibly deep, but it was still a good twenty feet down in pitch black water before he spotted Dick’s heat signature several yards away.  As he got closer, he felt the pull of the gravity well guide him, and Jason pulled out a light and shined it at Dick as he approached.

Jason felt a flood of relief to see Dick was still conscious, struggling to pull himself away from the sunken crate.  He could see the relief in Dick’s face too, for a brief second, but then he stilled and started shaking his head.  He knew Dick could hold his breath for a long time, over seven minutes if the stories from Damian were to be believed, but that required specific training and conditioning and Dick had had none of that in the last few weeks.  It had taken more than a couple minutes between Dick falling into the water, Jason shooting his assailant, and Tim giving him the EMP, so Jason knew Dick was hitting his limit.  The exertion from struggling to get free had probably eaten up the last of his oxygen.

 _Shit_ , Jason thought.  Putting his helmet on Dick wouldn’t do any good.  It would just fill with water the instant he took it off, but he might be able to give Dick a little more oxygen in another way.  By now, the gravity well had pulled him down directly on top of Dick, and they were literally pressed together at the bottom of the bay.  Jason wasted no time in setting off the EMP.  Then he quickly pulled off his helmet, grabbed Dick’s face with both hands, and pressed their mouths together, sharing a breath.

Jason felt the frantic suck of air out of his lungs and then pulled away.  It took a few agonizing moments before he felt the effects of the gravity well dissipate and immediately began kicking to the surface.  Everything had gone black as his flashlight had also fried from the EMP, but he could feel Dick clutching him -- he was a hairsbreadth away from drowning, and Jason could feel him struggling not to suck in a lungful of water.  His own lungs were burning something fierce having given up what was left of his own air, and though it probably only took half a minute to surface, it felt like an eternity.

Finally, they broke the surface, but Jason was floundering from the strain, and Dick had taken in water and was trying to gasp for air.  He was still clutching Dick, trying to hold them both above water while trying to find the pier.  He felt them start to sink and took a mouthful of water himself as he tried to keep Dick above him.  Suddenly he felt Dick being lifted out of his arms.  Jason struggled for a second, not sure if it was friend or foe, but he saw a flash of red and yellow.  It was Tim, and he let go of Dick.  

The shift in momentum sent his head back underwater however.  His leg and shoulder where the bullets had glanced were cramping, he felt numb from the cold, and in his disorientation he sucked in a lungful of seawater again.  Jason thrashed, trying to get back to the surface, but the darkness and the water burning in his lungs… suddenly he flashed back to the green waters of the Pit in his mind’s eye, remembered the searing pain that had wracked through his limbs and through his very core.

Jason panicked.  He opened his mouth to scream, but his chest convulsed, drawing in more water.  He couldn’t make out which way was up or down and flailed, grasping for something, anything.  His hand hit something… _someone_ , and he felt them grab him back, hook an arm under his, and he was dragged up onto the pier.  

Coughing and spluttering, it was all Jason could do to just lie there and try to breath.  Someone shined a light in his eyes and he realized someone was talking to him.  His head began to clear, and he remembered Dick!

“Dick,” he croaked, retching salt water and trying to sit up.

“Jason, don’t get up.”  It was Tim’s voice.  He felt hands on him, trying to coax him back down.  There was something draped over him, someone’s cape.  “Dick’s breathing,” Tim’s voice from above him again.  “He aspirated seawater, but he’s breathing on his own.  You need to stay down.  You sucked in a lot of water too.  I need to check you over.”

The light in his eyes again, and Jason swatted it away.

“I’m fine,” he wheezed.  Ignoring Tim’s protests, he rolled onto his side so he could see Dick lying a few feet away.  Bruce was leaning over him with Damian hovering anxiously at his side, and by the looks of it, Dick was struggling to get up as well.

“Both of you. Stay. Down.”  It was the Batman voice, and instinctively both Dick and Jason stopped their struggling.  “The batplane will be here in minutes.  We need to get you both on oxygen.  In the meantime, stop moving.”

Bruce punctuated the last words for emphasis, and his voice was tighter and more strained than usual.  Knowing Dick was safe, Jason decided to give up and lay back down.  He couldn’t muster enough spite in himself to challenge Brue, and the brief episode of Pit-induced panic had drained the last of both his physical and mental energy.

The batplane arrived in short order, and Bruce had to carry Dick in.  He came back and tried to do the same with Jason, but he was at least fifty pounds heavier and Jason would not suffer the indignity.  However, after nearly falling flat on his face, he let Bruce support his weight and walked on shaky legs onto the plane.  Once on board, Tim slipped an oxygen mask around his face, and somewhere along the way back to the Cave, Jason fell into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-- From what I read up, sharing a breath probably doesn’t really work, and Jason had probably depleted enough of the oxygen that it wouldn’t have really helped in real life, but this is a fic and its sexy ain’t it?  
> \-- Dick was shown to have been able to hold his breath for over 7 minutes during his time as DickBats in Batman and Robin, but he spent a lot of time training and preparing his body to be able to do that. In this case, he didn’t anticipate it, and so his body is “out of shape” for holding his breath that long  
> \-- I don’t really know the proper medical procedures for treatment after drowning… so just suspend your disbelief, if you have any


	5. Chapter 5

~~~~ Years Before~~~

_ “Wow, is this some sort of castle?” Jason said, awestruck.  He was standing in a large hall with ornate columns and spiraling marble staircases.  There were some large windows overlooking a landscape of rolling green hills and thick forests in the distance.  Every now and then, he could see creatures that looked like dragons dart across the sky.  It looked like something out of a fairytale. _

_ “Yep, my brother has a flair for the fantastic.  He’s the Lord of the Dream after all.”  Death had transported them to yet another location after she had given Jason a set of clothes.  He had changed rather reluctantly as he wasn’t quite ready to abandon his Robin costume.  In the end he went ahead and donned the jeans and hoodie Death had given him, since, when he thought about it, his costume couldn’t have been real anyway.  He was dead.  And his real costume was still on his mangled mess of a body back in the real world.  He suppressed a shudder at the thought of it.  Still, everything here felt so real. _

_ “How is it that I’m walking around, and not passing through the walls and stuff. I’m dead right?  Aren’t I supposed to be a ghost?”  Jason asked suddenly. _

_ “Your soul has substance, Jason,” Death replied, “just not in the physical world anymore. We’re in the Dreaming now, and you have a form here.  When you were alive, you came here when you dreamed, and your body stayed in the physical realm. That part of you that came here to dream, that’s what you are now.” _

_ Jason wasn’t sure if he would have believed it when he was alive, but the explanation  seemed to make sense.  When he used to have nightmares, everything had always seemed real when he was dreaming it. Hyperreal even.  Things didn't always behave the way they did in the living world, but his interactions with the environment had felt as undeniably real as they did now. _

_ A tall, wiry man with glasses and receding red hair approached and greeted them.  “The Master has been informed of your presence.  Please follow me.” _

_ “Thank you Lucien,” replied Death.  They stopped outside a set of large ornate doors, and Death put a hand to stop Lucien from opening the door.  “If you would, Lucien, I’d like to talk to my brother alone first.  Could you take Jason somewhere to wait?”  _

_ Jason tried to argue, but Death insisted, and soon he found he was being escorted away into a small drawing room.  “Please wait here, I’ll send someone shortly with a refreshment.” _

_ Jason flopped onto a small settee and looked around.  The room was plainly furnished with old antique furniture and odd landscape paintings.  It was dark, though it had a single tall narrow window.  When Jason looked outside, all he could see was a thick white mist.  He puttered around the room, wondering what it was that Death needed to discuss with her brother without him.  How was it even possible that Death even had siblings?  That didn’t make a whole lot of sense.  That would imply that they had a mother too, and perhaps a father as well. _

_ Jason looked around the room again, and it seemed to have slightly shifted.  The cushions he was sitting on seemed to have grown a little more comfortable, the tall window had grown wider, and the room slightly smaller.  Rays of light filtered in now, and Jason could see blue skies and white clouds now.  The room felt warmer suddenly.  More comfortable.  Nothing had changed drastically, but it was as if his perception had subtly shifted when he wasn’t paying attention.   _

_ Death had called this place the Dreaming and Jason supposed that meant this place was what made up people’s dreams.  Or was it the other way around?  Did people dream this place up first?  This place felt entirely real, but it also felt strange.  If we wasn’t looking directly at something, the edges of his vision would get a little fuzzy, as if he was looking at a vignette, but when he looked back everything would be the same.  Mostly.  He couldn’t tell what, but sometimes things would just look a little different.  He wondered if it was like this everywhere, and his thought drifted back to the dragons he had seen earlier.  He wanted to look outside, and see what this whole world was about.   _

_ Jason hesitated for a moment.  He had meant to wait as he had been asked, the consequences of disregarding a direct order were still fresh in his memory, but he was already dead right?  What else could happen to him?  Curiosity got the best of him, and after a few minutes he peaked his head out the door.  The hall was empty, and Jason stepped out, heading in the opposite direction from which he had came.   _

_ Jason wandered the empty halls, turning corner after corner.  This place was huge.  Way bigger than Wayne Manor, and he felt like he was wandering in circles for ages until he finally managed to find an archway that opened out onto a balcony.  He leaned out on the railing and gazed over the landscape.  He could see the dragons again, darting and twirling across the sky.  It was amazingly beautiful, and it reminded him a little bit of how Dick looked when he was flying across the Gotham skyline.  Their leathery wings also reminded him of Bruce’s cape, and a sudden sadness overcame him.  It was starting to really hit him.  He had died.  He had royally fucked up and died.  And even if Death had made him a deal so he could go back, things would be different.  He could never really get back what he had. _

_ Jason was lost in thought, mulling over what he had lost, when suddenly, he heard a voice behind him. _

_ “Well hello, boy.”   _

_ Jason turned around to see a man with platinum blonde hair wearing dark sunglasses standing under the archway.  He was tall and muscular, with chiseled features, wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans.  He looked as oddly out of place as Jason himself in this fantastical palace. _

_ When Jason didn’t respond, the man continued, “You must be the guest of the Lord Master.”  He stepped forward, and Jason instinctively took a step back, ready to take a fighting stance should the man lunge for him.   _

_ The man grinned but didn’t approach any further.  Instead, he crossed his arms and spoke, “I am the Corinthian, and I am a nightmare of the Lord of the Dreaming.  I’ve seen you recently.  You’re a naughty little boy with bad dreams.”  He leaned in a little, ”and a little birdie told me your name is Jason.” _

_ Jason’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of his name, but he quickly collected himself and scowled at the stranger.   _

_ “What does that mean, that you’re a nightmare?  Do you like, scare people or something?” _

_ “Yes.  It’s what I was created to do.” And then after a pause, “Jason, come a little closer, I want to look at you. You have... beautiful eyes.”  At this the Corinthian stepped closer, and Jason sidestepped, alarmed, and used the edge of the balcony to vault to the side, flipping over the Corinthian and landing behind him in the archway. _

_ “Nope, I’ve heard that one before.  See ya later!” and Jason began sprinting down the hall.  He had no idea where he was going, only that the man, the Corinthian, gave him the creeps.  He ran down several staircases and through several more long hallways before spotting a row of open windows.  He could see he was close to ground level now, so he lept out the window, landing on compacted dirt. _

_ “Jason, wait!”  It was the Corinthian, looking down at him through the open window, and Jason ran.  The landscape right outside the castle was barren and rocky, so Jason sprinted towards a copse of trees in the distance.  He could hear someone running behind him, gaining ground.  Jason gave it all he had, but then he was tackled to the ground.  The Corinthian was on him, and Jason fought back, kicking and punching at any opening he could find. He managed to knock the man’s sunglasses off, revealing two gaping rows of teeth in each socket where his eyes should have been.  _

_ “Holy fucking christ!” Jason screamed, renewing his struggles, but the man hardly seemed phased.  _

_ “Jason, stop fighting. The Boss asked me to bring you back to the castle.”  He grabbed both of Jason’s wrists in one hand and hauled him up under his arm like a rag doll. _

_ Jason twisted suddenly and rolled, loosening the Corinthian’s grip.  Bruce’s training was effective, but he had also learned the hard way from numerous experiences how to escape larger, stronger assholes who tried to overpower him.  _

_ Jason rolled away and was on the ground running again when he felt a large hand come down and encircle his neck, cutting off his air supply.  Jason knew he was dead, but this certainly felt real enough that he was still screwed.  _

_ “You’re quite the feisty one aren’t you? I’m supposed to bring you back unharmed, but you aren't making it easy, kid.”  The Corinthian maneuvered Jason around to face him, hand still strangling his neck.  He held him there for a moment before suddenly letting go. Jason dropped to the ground gasping. _

_ “I could go all day, but the Master is waiting. Lets just get this over with.”  The Corinthian picked him up again, this time in a near crushing hold, and marched back to the castle.  _

_ Jason stopped squirming when they reentered the castle and tried to follow the dizzying twists and turns that eventually led them back to the doors where he and Death had parted.  The Corinthian pushed open the door, and inside he saw Death and a tall figure all in white with strange dark eyes.  _

_ “Sire, I have brought the boy as you asked,” said the Corinthian, setting Jason down on his feet. Then, almost abashedly rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m sorry, I only wanted to look at his eyes, and he ran.” _

_ “It is alright Corinthian,” replied the man in white. This was the Dream Lord, Jason figured.  _

_ “Jason,” Dream continued, “you should have stayed and waited as Lucien had asked.  It was my mistake to send the Corinthian to fetch you.  It is in his nature to instill fear, but he would not have harmed you as you are a guest in my realm.” _

_ Jason felt sheepish suddenly. “I’m sorry, I only wanted to look outside.  And when he said that about my eyes, I thought….” Jason trailed off. When he was living on the streets, something like that meant only one thing. He’d had enough experience with that to last a lifetime.  _

_ Dream didn’t ask him to clarify, and instead he went on, “my sister has apprised me of the situation.  I will help, and follow the path laid out on Destiny’s page.  I can offer you sanctuary in my realm until your return to the world of the living.” _

_ Death nodded reassuringly at Jason.  “It's better if you stay here, Jason.  The page doesn't say anything about your time between now and resurrecting. You can learn a few things until then, and it's best that you do it here, in the Dreaming.” _

_ “Yes,” agreed Dream.  “In fact, it seems when you return to the mortal world, insanity will drive you to embrace the darkness of humanity.  Perhaps to ensure you do not lose sight of yourself, you should have a better understanding of what that means.” _

_ “The Corinthian,” Dream continued, “was created to reflect that darkness, so that humanity can learn to see it in themselves.  He has spent some time in the mortal world, and understands human fear, love, and loss.  Corinthian,” Dream waved a hand at him to step forward, “find a way to show Jason what you know and what you have learned, but make sure he comes to no harm.” _

_ “What? No!” cried Jason.  “I don’t want--” _

_ “No,” Dream cut him off.  “These are the conditions of your stay.  Lucien will find you a room and take care of your needs.” _

_ “Come Jason,” Lucien gestured.  Jason thought he was a poor substitute for Alfred, and told him so in no uncertain words. _

_ “Jason,” Death stepped forward this time, “I know this has been a lot, you just died, and had a lot thrown at you, but you need to cool it.  Your time here will be temporary, and I’ll come get you sooner than you think.  In the meantime, behave yourself.”  She wagged a scolding finger at him. _

_ “Come on kid, let’s go.  I promise I won’t bite,” said the Corinthian, grinning again with all three of his horrific mouths. _

_ “Ugh,” Jason said, facepalming.  What had he gotten himself into?  _

 

~~~~ Now, Tim~~~

Tim was hovering.  They were down in the med bay of the bat cave, where Dick and Jason were under observation, hooked up to various monitors.  His anxiety over tonight’s mess of a mission had lessened somewhat after both Dick and Jason were out of the water and breathing, but while Dick seemed to be doing okay several hours later, for some reason Jason wasn’t recovering as quickly, and was still unconscious after falling under on the plane.

It was Bruce who had ended up hauling Dick out of the water first.  It was clear that Jason was the only thing keeping them both afloat, and it made sense to lift the unresponsive person out first.  But then Jason didn’t resurface immediately, and Tim jumped in after him, only to struggle with Jason’s panicked thrashing.  Bruce ended up hauling them both out by grabbing onto Tim’s cape.  

_ God, could he have messed up anymore?  _ Tim thought, dropping his face into his hands.  He was kicking himself for not having had the intel on the gravity wells.  It had nearly gotten his three siblings killed.

“It's not your fault.”  Dick’s voice pulled him out of his reverie.  While Tim was wallowing in self pity, Dick had woken, and was now eyeing Tim thoughtfully.  “I know what you’re thinking, and really, it's not your fault.  Don’t beat yourself up over it, Tim.”  He glanced over at Jason’s still lying form. “Is Jay okay?

“I don’t know,” Tim admitted.  “His oxygen levels were really low and his heartrate has been slightly erratic, but he’s stabilized.  No concussion and his brain scans are normal.  Right now it looks like he’s just asleep, he’s got REM activity, but he hasn’t woken up since the plane.”

Dick nodded in response, still clearing his head it seemed, and Tim continued, “how are you feeling?”

“Like I just woke up from nearly drowning, but other than that, just peachy,” he said with a slight smile.  

“Your jokes are still awful as always,” Tim smiled back. He followed up with a routine assessment, checking Dick’s vitals and making notes in his chart.  Alfred, or if it was serious enough, Dr. Thompkins, usually took charge of their clinical documentation, but Bruce had made sure they all had basic medical training and could step in when needed. 

Dick looked worried and continued to glance over at Jason as Tim finished. Afterward, they lapsed into silence, sharing their mutual concern over Jason until Alfred appeared around the corner. 

“Master Tim, please go upstairs and get some rest.  I will let you know the instant anything changes,” Alfred said with a stern look.  It seemed he was forever hounding his charges to rest, with little to show for the effort.

“Go,” encouraged Dick.  “Looks like I’m in the clear anyhow,” he assessed, looking over his own chart.  “Ugh, I need a shower too.” They had stripped both Dick and Jason out of their costumes to assess their injuries, but judging by the way his hair crunched when he tried to run his hand through it, Dick was feeling the grime of Gotham Bay on his skin.

“Tim, go get some rest.”  It was Bruce who appeared in the doorway this time, dressed in sweats.  Once the boys had been assessed and Dick and Jason were being monitored, Alfred had forced him out of the med bay to shower and change.  

“Fine,” Tim assented reluctantly.  “But ping me as soon as Jason wakes up.”

“Dick, glad to see you’re awake.” Bruce turned his attention to his eldest and looked over the chart Tim had updated.  “Your vitals are good, if you’re feeling up to it, go get cleaned up too.”  He was curt as usual, but Tim could see the relief on his face.  It was subtle, but Tim saw the lines of worry and concern return as he turned his gaze toward Jason’s still form.  They had been seeing more of Jason lately, but their truce and subsequent rebuilding of trust was still tenuous.  Even so, Tim knew Bruce cared deeply for Jason.  Tim was the one who had pieced together that Batman was falling apart after Jason’s death, and he was there to see the agony he tried to hide upon Jason’s tumultuous return.  He knew Bruce cared deeply for him now too, even if he didn’t know how to show it in a way that Jason could see it.

Dick rolled off the bed and onto his feet, but Tim could see he was slightly less steady, less graceful in movement than usual.  He took a few steps over to Jason and stood for a moment alongside Bruce.  In contrast to his ever stone-faced mentor, Dick looked at Jason openly with both worry and warm affection.  

“I’ll go shower and change, Jay,” Dick said to Jason’s still form, reaching down to brush an errant lock of hair from his face. “But I’ll be right back.”

They left Bruce and Alfred to watch over Jason, with Alfred managing to persuade Bruce to at least sit on a cot.  On their way up, Dick and Tim ran into Damian, running hurriedly down toward the med bay.  He had been the first ordered to change and rest. It seemed he had only done the bare minimum of resting that Alfred would accept.

“Richard, you’re awake!”

Tim was pretty sure that if he hadn’t been there, Damian might have slipped Dick a hug.  As it was, he simply stood there, arms crossed, and said “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thanks Little D! Were you coming down to see me?”

“-Tt-” was all Damian deigned to reply.  He was scowling and looking sideways, but added, “And how is Todd?”

“He’s still out,” Dick replied, solemnly.  “He might just be sleeping it off, but he’s still under observation.  Bruce and Alfred are with him, and I’ll be back down in a few.”

“You should rest, Richard.  I’ll go down and review his chart, in case Pennyworth missed something.”  Damian gave Dick a little push up toward the manor, earning him a hand ruffling his hair before Dick retracted his hand and continued back up toward the manor.  Tim followed, keeping an eye on Dick’s movements, as Damian continued down to the cave.

“Is the little demon actually worried about Jason, or is he up to something?” Tim mused, as soon as Damian was out of earshot.

“Jason put himself in danger to protect him.  Damian might not like to admit that he needed protecting in the first place, but there’s no way he missed what Jason was willing to do for him.”  Dick sighed. “He has a funny way of showing it, but he’ll want to check in on him too.”

They parted ways to their own respective rooms, and Tim set an alarm for three hours later before setting down.  It seemed like he was asleep only a few minutes when he woke to the blaring of his alarm.  He glanced at the time.  It was well past three hours.  It was nearing evening time.

“Shit!” He wouldn’t put it past Alfred, or maybe even Dick, to have changed his alarm while he was asleep. He threw on a sweater and jeans and headed back down to the cave.  Tim had just exited the elevator when he heard voices. 

“Todd, where do you think you’re going?”  Damian’s voice drifted up from somewhere in the cave. 

“Home.” It was Jason.  He was awake!

“And you are planning to steal a batcycle?”  Damian demanded. Tim still couldn't see them from where he was standing, but now that he knew they were over by the vehicles, he headed that way.

“Borrow. I was just planning on borrowing one. Bruce has like twenty. I’m sure he wouldn't mind,” Jason retorted. 

“And you were planning to go dressed as you are?  In your underwear?”

Now this Tim had to see. As he reached the vehicle parking, he saw that sure enough, Jason was standing in his boxers next to the batcycles.  His arms were crossed, his stance obstinate.  Damian mirrored him in a near identical pose, except he was fully clothed.

“Sure, why not?”  He could tell Jason was just being stubborn for the sake of it.  At that moment he must have heard Tim approaching.  He turned his head toward Tim and said, “well, there goes my getaway.”

Damian acknowledged Tim with barely a nod, and turned back to Jason.  “Todd, you are an imbecile.  You nearly drowned, and now you want to die of hypothermia.  Father would not be pleased.”

“Now that you mention it,” Tim cut in, “where is everyone?”

“Father and Pennyworth are resting, after having been up all night looking after this fool,” Damian gave a slight jerk of his elbow toward Jason.  “Richard has gone upstairs to retrieve some food.  He should be back shortly.  In the meantime, Todd has awoken and tried to escape.”

Jason merely arched a brow at that, but Tim could see he was suppressing his amusement. 

“Jason, there are spare clothes that should fit you in the med bay under the drawer with the suture kits,” Tim said, keeping his voice neutral and calm.  “Get dressed and I’ll drive you home.”

Jason only sighed in response, but he walked off back to the med bay. 

“Drake, what do you think you’re doing?” Damian hissed as soon as Jason was out of earshot.  “You can’t just help him leave!  What am I supposed to tell Richard when he comes back?”

“Tell Dick exactly what I’m telling you, that I’m driving Jason home.  He’s not a prisoner here Damian, and if we force him to stay, he’ll resent it,” Tim explained. Dick would be disappointed, but he would understand.  He had learned that trying to corral Jason would only make him even more skittish.  Letting him go was the only way to bring him back. 

Jason returned in sweats and a t-shirt that could only have been Bruce’s, but Tim didn't mention that fact. 

“Come on,” Tim said. “I’m not suiting up just to drive you home in a batmobile. We’ll have to sneak into the regular garage.”

“Fine,” Jason replied, “but we’ve gotta at least take the Veyron.”

“Works for me.”  They started to make their way out of the cave, when Damian called after them.

“Todd.”  Damian paused a moment, his fists at his side. “Thank you. For covering me. I’ll distract Richard until you leave.  Now go, before I change my mind.”

Jason looked dumbstruck for a second, then he returned a grin.  “Thanks kid.  Now we’re even.”  Jason gave a small salute, and turned to make his escape with Tim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- This chapter sets up what Jason might have gotten up to while he was dead. I want to write some spinoff stories at some point  
> \--- You’ll see much more of the relationship between Jason and the Corinthian going forward. It gets kind of dark, and twisted! Yay!  
> \--- Well I wanted to explore some more family dynamics in this chapter. What do you think?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - references to previous underage relationship here. Nothing graphic, but be warned.  
> Also, the second half of this overlaps a little bit with the previous chapter, but its from Jason's POV and keeps going.

~~~~ A couple years before, after Jason’s resurrection~~~

_ “I can’t do this anymore.”  Jason cried desperately.  “I can’t… Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me?” _

_ “Well, looks like that Lazarus Pit made you kind of crazy, for one,” Death replied. _

_ “You think this is fucking funny?  I cut off their fucking heads!  I murdered a frick ton of people!” _

_ “Yeah, I know.  I picked them all up.  You killed a bunch of murdering crime lords and it was their time.  So what?  If it wasn’t you, Jason, it would have been somebody else.  Want me to tell you how many people I would have picked up if you hadn’t killed them first?”  Death waved offhandedly in the air.  Jason supposed this was a regular day for her.  She was not moved in the the least.    _

_ “Ugh, you know what, you’re crazy too!  All of you.  Why the hell did I agree to this!”  Jason ran his hands through his hair.  He was at the Palace of the Dreaming again, standing in Dream’s throne room where they always seemed to conduct these meetings.  And in that strange way that dreams are always instantly familiar -- always with their own history and context that you instantly know and don’t think about even as you’re dreaming them -- every time Jason came here, he could remember everything.   It was like a light switch.  Suddenly he remembered, and then when he woke up, he would forget. _

_ “I need to remember.  I need to remember when I’m in the waking world.  There’s got to be another way!”  Jason was sure of it.  There was no way this could be the only path.  He had thought he was ready for this.  He had worked and prepared during his time in the Dreaming to harden himself.  The Corinthian had showed him what brutality could do, and after he had been resurrected, in the waking world Jason had continued to train.  But learning about death and murder was a lot different than committing the act.  He had little problem with it in the waking, since he was pure batshit crazy there.  But here in the Dreaming, where he could remember everything.  Where he knew who he used to be, and what he was  _ really  _ trying to do, it was too difficult to reconcile.  He couldn’t do it anymore.  He wanted to stop. _

_ “No,” replied Dream.  “This is what we agreed to.  This is the path that Destiny has laid out for us.  He did not say there would be no pain, Jason.  This is the simply the path where there is the least.” _

_ “Yeah, maybe for YOU,” Jason sniped back.  “I tried to blow up Bruce!  I tried to kill Dick!  I even tried to kill that new kid!  I don’t see you trying to blow up YOUR family!”  Jason was yelling, he felt like punching Dream in the face.  He had tried once actually, at their first meeting after he was resurrected, and it didn’t end well for Jason. _

_ “It brings me no pleasure to see you like this, Jason.  And you did not actually harm your family because we have kept your soul sane and intact in the Dreaming.  You may not realize it when you are awake, but you are still guided by your own intentions from here.”  Dream waved a hand in the air, indicating his realm, or maybe just the throne room.  Whatever.  Jason was still angry, feeling out of control. _

_ Dream continued, “if I were to return your memories to you in the mortal world, you would not do what needs to be done, and it would likely drive you insane in the Dreaming as well.  I’m sorry Jason. It has to be this way.” _

_ “Jason,” it was the Corinthian this time.  He had been standing silently to the side when Jason had gotten here, but now he moved forward.  He reached out tentatively, seeing if Jason would react, and when he didn’t, he cupped Jason’s face in his hand, bringing his face up to look in his eyes. _

_ “Jason,” the Corinthian said again, “I can’t claim to understand your struggle.  Killing is in my nature, but I do understand the necessity of brutality.  I’ve seen how it's needed.  I’ve shown you what can come of it, when humanity sees its own reflection.  Please Jason, trust us when we say that this is necessary.”  He kissed Jason softly on the mouth, and Jason let him.  He was still angry, and still desperate for all of this to be over, but the fact that the Corinthian understood… understood who Jason was and what he had to do… it made him feel not quite so desperate.  Not quite so alone.  He missed having the Corinthian by his side.   _

_ God, he was definitely crazy, both in and out of the Dreaming, if the man who was a nightmare with toothy maws for eyes was the only one in this damn place who made him feel safe.  The man who regularly murdered people and ate their eyes in their dreams, and yet who was consistently kind and loving towards Jason.  Jeez, he was so fucked up.  The Corinthian pulled back, and Jason nodded faintly.  He felt steadier with the Corinthian, his stress and anxiety lessening somewhat when he had someone to lean on.  He needed someone to hold him together, and the Corinthian had always been there for him.  _

_ “Corinthian,” Dream spoke up.  Jason turned to see he had a stern look on his face.  Death was standing by him with her eyebrows raised.  “When I asked you to help Jason understand, this is not what I meant.” _

_ Whoops, the cat was out of the bag.  Jason flushed.  The Corinthian didn’t seem phased however.  In fact, he seemed slightly pleased, judging by the grin on his face.  All three of them. _

_ They had kept their liaisons a secret from the others for fear of their disapproval.  For fear that Dream would no longer let the Corinthian accompany and teach Jason what he needed to learn.  Even after Jason had been brought back to life, they had continued to see each other when Jason came to the Dreaming.  The Corinthian made it seem like what Jason was doing was okay.  He helped Jason get through what he did in the waking.  Jason needed him. _

_ Judging by the look on his face, Dream did not agree.  He clenched his fists together for a moment and stood, and then let out a long sigh.  “I am quite surprised at this development, given your first meeting.”  Dream covered his face with his hand, pausing in thought.   _

_ Jason stood there, motionless, watching Dream for a reaction.  He didn’t want to see the Corinthian punished for this.  He would stand by him no matter what, and he was worried that Dream would threaten to unmake him.  He had heard the others whisper that it had been done before, but Jason would die again before he would let that happen. _

_ Dream withdrew his hand from his face and crossed his arms, looking between Jason and the Corinthian before speaking.  “This is highly egregious, and this happened under my watch.  Jason, you were only a boy under my protection.  The Corinthian should not have taken advantage of you.” _

_ “I wasn’t a boy! I was dead.  And he didn’t! It wasn’t like that!”  Jason said defensively, but Dream put a hand up and stopped him before he could launch into a full tirade. _

_ “I do not approve of this, however, I cannot separate the two of you.”  Dream turned to the Corinthian, “Jason is too dependent on you.  Forcing you apart could cause more harm and jeopardize our plan.”  Dream turned and sighed, sitting back down on his throne in the closest thing to exasperation Jason had ever seen him lower himself to.  “However, perhaps you are what Jason needs at the moment.  You are someone who understands him and the brutality he must enact.”   _

_ “Sire, please, it was not my intention to harm him.” The Corinthian finally spoke.  He was looking down at the floor, head slightly bowed.   _

_ “I know,” Dream acknowledged.  “But it is in your nature.  You were created to be horrific and perverse.  I cannot blame you for this either.  I will not punish you, but you will know that I am not pleased either.”  Dream turned back to Jason, and studied him before finally asking, “Jason, will you continue?” _

_ Jason let out a breath.  He looked at the Corinthian, who put a hand on his shoulder and nodded.  He looked at Death, who smiled reassuringly.  Then he looked at Dream, whose face was blank and unreadable.  “Fine.  I’ll be your murder puppet for now.  But for the record, I hate this.  So yes, send me back.” _

  
  


~~~~ The present, Jason’s POV ~~~

Jason was dreaming, or so he thought.  He was coming awake slowly.  In the back of his mind, he knew it was called the  hypnopompic  state, that funny place where you transition between dreaming and waking.  

_ “Jason, I’m sorry we have kept you so long.  Your family is concerned, but it was important that we discuss things.  You must begin to remember, but only slowly.  I am sending you back now.  You will remember this that I have said.” _

The voice was familiar.  He felt like he’d heard it many times before, but he couldn’t quite place where.

_ “Jason, do you understand?  Remember what I said.” _  That voice again, coming from inside his head.

“Yeah, yeah.  I know.  I need to remember,” Jason muttered.

“Todd, are you awake?”  It was Damian’s voice he heard this time, and not in his head.

Jason cracked an eye open to see the little demon-shit standing over him.  “Unh, could you keep it down?  Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“-Tt-.  You’ve been asleep for nearly twenty hours,” Damian huffed.  “Don’t move you idiot.  I’ll go get Richard.”

Dick.  There was something he was supposed to remember about Dick.  That strange voice he was dreaming had said something, but now he couldn’t remember.  A strange mix of emotions suddenly welled up, a mixture of fear and panic, and then he remembered the events of the previous night.

“Where’s Dick?  Is he okay?” Jason said, moving to sit up.

“He’s fine.  He’s been watching over you, as have Father and Pennyworth.  Even Drake has been hovering around you like a fawning schoolgirl.”  Damian replied.  

Jason let out the breath he was unconsciously holding when he heard Damian confirm Dick was okay. But good God, the demon-brat was an awful little snot, Jason thought.  He moved to get out of the bed he was lying in and found he had been stripped down to his boxers.  It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, especially with the frequency that the Bat Family got injured, but it was always a little disconcerting.  He looked around and didn’t see any sign of his gear.  Alfred had probably taken it to be cleaned.  Damn.

He managed to get on his feet, removing the IV and various monitoring equipment taped to his body.  His skin was slightly sticky, and his hair was disgustingly matted.  The sludge of Gotham Bay at its finest.  Jason just wanted to go home and shower.

Home.  That’s where he wanted to be, in his own space.  Even if it would only be so for as long as it took to rest up and move out.  But first he needed to get there.  

His head was still fuzzy, mildly aching, and the memory of that damned voice.  Something about remembering, he couldn’t pin down what, was still there, persistent in the back of his mind.  He needed to get out of here and think, but he couldn’t do that with Damian nagging at his heels.

That’s right. Home.  Alone.  Jason needed a vehicle to get there, so he padded out of the med bay and into the cave.  The various bat cars and cycles were parked not too far away, conveniently located close to the medical area.  Bruce probably wouldn’t mind if he took one, not that Jason would bother asking.

“Todd, are you even listening to me?  I said, get back into the medical bay.  I will get Richard.  Todd!” Damian hadn’t shut up since he’d woken, but he had gotten pretty good at tuning him out. Jason stopped in front of the bat cycles and forgot why he was there for a moment.  His mind was still foggy.  He was going to pick one out to go home, wasn’t he?  But that voice had said something.  Was it something about Dick?  Maybe he should wait for Dick to come back. He wanted to see him, make sure he really was okay, but that brought up an uncomfortable tightness in his chest.  Made his heart start to pound.  He remembered how he had saved Dick, pulled by the gravity well against his body, their mouths pressed together.  Sexy thoughts were the furthest thing from his mind at the time, but now in hindsight, it was embarrassing as hell.  No, he couldn’t handle seeing Dick right now. 

“Todd, where do you think you’re going?” Damian kept pestering.

“Home,” Jason replied, curtly.  God, he needed to think, and Damian was making it damn near impossible.  Jason refocused his attention on Damian.  He was his ever-typical arrogant self, standing there with his arms crossed, but was that a hint of concern in his eyes?  Was the little shit actually worried? 

Something about his stance and expression triggered a memory. There was an image of the kid standing with a woman, dressed all in black. It felt like it had been a dream, but then it faded, and he was back in reality and the little shit was accusing him of stealing. It wasn't too far from the truth, but Jason still denied it.

“Borrow. I was just planning on borrowing one. Bruce has like twenty. I’m sure he wouldn't mind.”

“And you were planning to go dressed as you are?  In your underwear?”

Oh right.  That.  The little shit had a point, but he’d be damned before he admitted it.  “Sure, why not?”

Damian scowled, or maybe that was just his resting bitch-face, but Jason could tell the little shit  _ was _ worried.  He tried so hard to hide everything he really felt, but when you really stopped and looked, it was so damn transparent.  Jason smiled a bit at that.  Maybe the little shit wasn’t so bad, but he was NOT going to indulge his obnoxious behavior.  

Just then he heard the near silent brush of feet against the cave floor, something only a Bat would pick up.  He saw Damian glance slightly to the right behind him, and when Jason turned, he saw it was Tim.  “Well, there goes my getaway.”

Jason’s mind began to wander after that. Damian had insisted Dick was coming back soon, and his mind jumped to thinking about Dick again.  That niggling feeling just wouldn't go away. But he had Bruce, and not to mention everyone else, to keep an eye on him. No, Jason reaffirmed his need to leave. He didn’t want to see Dick right now, or Bruce, or even Alfred.  

Jason was a little surprised when Tim in turn actually offered to BE his getaway.  He was honestly relieved, because the truth was, physically he didn’t feel like he was up for the long drive atop a motorcycle back into the heart of the city.  They managed to sneak out of Wayne Manor without a hitch for once, probably with the help of interference from Damian.  The little demon had actually thanked him.  It kind of warmed Jason’s cold, resurrected heart.

In the end, Tim persuaded them to pass on the Veyron and they took a regular, boring Lexus coupe instead.  It was a little more inconspicuous, though not by much, especially since they were driving into the edge of the Narrows to Jason’s latest safehouse.

Oh, and that.  Shit.  He was going to have to move again.  Jason groaned into his hands.  He was too tired for this shit.

“What is it?  Is your head okay?  We didn’t check your vitals before we left.  I can probably run a few diagnostics from my wrist computer,” said Tim, glancing over from the driver's’ seat.  

“No.  God you’re such a nerd,” Jason said teasingly.  “It's just… I may have been compromised yesterday.  Before the mission.  Someone recognized me who shouldn’t have.  I need to relocate.”  Dick was supposed to help him move too, the bastard.  Oh right.  Something he needed to remember about Dick.  Tim had thankfully been quiet on most of their drive, and his head was finally clearing.  He had had a dream, where a man in white was telling him to look out for Dick.  It may have just been his subconscious reflecting on the events of the previous night, with Dick and Jason himself nearly drowning.  But that didn’t seem to be it.  The man was insistent that he remember.  The voice was incredibly vivid and real.

Tim pulled up outside the apartment building that was his latest safe house.  Jason said a quick thanks and moved to get out of the car, but Tim got out of the car as well.

“I’ll help you get your stuff, Jason.  I’d say you can stay with me, but you’ll say no, so I can offer you one of my  _ other _ places.  It's off the books, even B doesn’t know about it.”  Jason found that hard to believe, but Tim continued, “you can crash there as long as you need.  At least until you can set up your own place.”

Jason was too tired to argue, and simply nodded.  Back in his apartment, he grabbed his meager set of clothes and stuffed it into a duffel.  It was his extra gear and weapons that was a pain in the ass to move.  Most of his cache was kept off-site at various locations around the city, but the store of guns and ammunition he had on the ready was heavy.  He packed quickly, but having an extra pair of hands and a waiting car expedited the process.

Tim took him to a small furnished apartment in the Upper East Side and helped him haul his things in.  When Tim didn’t immediately leave, Jason simply ignored him and went to take a shower.

It felt good to finally get the grime off his skin, and he was finally alone.  Thank fucking christ!  He had barely a moment’s peace when he was trying to make his escape earlier, with both the youngest Bat Twerps constantly interrupting his train of thought.  Under the spray of hot water he was finally able to reflect on the past twenty-four hours.  He had that niggling feeling again, and his thoughts kept returning to Dick.  He was glad that Dick was alright.  Damian wouldn’t have acted the way he did if Dick was in any danger, but Jason felt slightly guilty at leaving the way he did.  Bruce and Alfred would probably be pissed too.  But sometimes, Jason just wasn’t able to deal with the intense dynamics of his so called family.  His best option was to extricate himself before he blew up and did something he would later regret.  

His thoughts returned to Dick again, and he mentally kicked himself.  He was acting like an obsessive teenager again, and the feel of their bodies and mouths pressed together flashed again in his mind.  He felt himself growing hard at the thought, and thank goodness Jason was in the shower, because he felt himself flush as he let himself remember.  Jason moved his hand down to stroke himself, and he pictured Dick’s face, the curve of his mouth, the feel of Dick’s calloused hands.  He continued to stroked himself until he came hard with a sob.  

Shit, he had it bad.  Even after all these years.  Even after dying, after the Pit destroyed his mind, and after all the murder, the revenge, and the uncontrollable anger, the one thing that had come full circle to was Dick Grayson.  Jason was so fucked.

He had both loved and hated Dick from the start.  Loved him because Dick was his childhood wet dream.  Hated him because he could never live up to the impossible standards Dick had set as the first Robin.  Because the things that came naturally to Dick didn’t come naturally to Jason.  Because even with the things Jason was naturally good at Dick could seemingly do in his sleep.  And even though Dick was on the outs with Bruce for a time, Jason could tell Bruce still saw him as the ideal.  Upon his resurrection, all that bitterness had boiled to the surface, and for a time that’s all Jason could let himself feel.  That and the rage he directed against the entire bat family, including Dick.  But he had worked over the recent year or two to let most of that go, and despite all of their convoluted history and having tried to kill Dick more than once, bat-brother or not it came down to one fact Jason could not escape: he was still in love with fucking Dick Grayson. 

Jason finished rinsing off and stepped out of the shower to get dressed.  He found a first aid kit under the sink and re-bandaged his arm and leg where the bullets had grazed him the previous night.  He was sore, but it was par for the course give his lifestyle.  He stepped out of the bathroom in just a towel, only to find that Tim was still there, waiting, and he had gotten food.

Huh.  His stomach growled.  Sometimes little brothers came in handy, thought Jason.  He hadn’t realized it, but he was famished.  “Uh, just gimme a sec. I’ll put some clothes on.”

“So, how are you feeling?” Tim fidgeted slightly when Jason returned a moment later.  He could tell Tim wanted to whip out his wrist computer and run some tests.

“Quit it with your stupid Yokai watch, Replacement. I’m not in the mood,” Jason shot back, but there was no bite it in.  

Tim just smiled, set two plates down, and started doling out food.  They ate in silence for a while.  Tim was constantly fiddling with his phone, and it was Jason who ended up breaking the silence.

“What the hell are you doing? Texting your girlfriend?”

“No, Stephanie and I broke up a while ago.  Bruce and the others are trying to track you down.  They’re blowing up my phone.  See?”  He waived his phone in front of Jason.  There were 43 messages from Dick, 10 from Bruce, 7 from Alfred.  There were even 3 from Damian.

“I’ve been covering our tracks,” Tim continued.  “I had to hack the tracking beacon on our car.  Bruce tried to follow us with WE satellites, so I had to upload a virus to corrupt the data.  Don’t worry, I have the data backed up.”  Tim looked smug.  Jason was slightly impressed.  Just slightly.  Little brothers were indeed very handy.

“They’re just worried about you, Jason.”  

Jason looked away, feeling guilty again.  “When you get back, tell them I’m sorry.  It's just… dealing with everyone.  It's too much sometimes.”  

“It’s called PTSD, Jason. You should look it up.”  Tim said it half jokingly, but he was looking at Jason seriously. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Tim asked again.  “You seem a little bit… spacey.  Your brain scans were normal, but if you’re having trouble concentrating, it could be a sign of something serious.”

“I’m fine.”  At least Jason thought he was fine.  It was just that stupid voice from the dream that kept popping up in his head.  Maybe if he voiced it, it would go away.  “Look, this is going to sound weird, but could you keep an eye on Dick?  I’ve just got this weird feeling.”

Tim eyed him curiously before replying. “Okay….  Could you be more specific?  Do you know something?”

Jason didn’t reply right away.  He just furrowed his brow, trying to remember again but coming up blank.  “No, it was just a stupid dream.  Forget it.”  Jason pushed himself up from the table they had been sitting at.  “Don’t you have to go on patrol or something?”  Jason was shutting down, and Tim got the hint.

“Uh yeah, I guess I better go.”  Tim made to go for the door and then stopped.  “Jason, if you need anything, just call me okay?  I won’t tell the others if you don’t want me to.”  He grabbed something out of his pocket.  It was another phone.

“I set this up for you while you were in the shower, since your other one got water-logged.  It's clean, I swear,” and Tim handed it over.

Jason swiped opened the phone.  It had all the Bat Family numbers pre-entered, and somehow Tim had also managed to program Jason’s fingerprint in.  Jason was not as disturbed about that as he should have been.  Tim had really gone out of his way to help him, and he was grateful.  

“Thanks, Tim.  I mean it. Thanks.”  Jason watched from the window as Tim drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- I thought about bringing in Babs into the tracking down of Jason and Tim, but this story is kind of crowded as it is, so sorry. No Batgirls will be appearing in this story. Sorry, maybe in a equal or something?  
> \--- The relationship b/t Jason and the Corinthian is meant to be a bit squicky since was still underage when it started. This nature of it will be explored a little more in the next chapter.  
> \--- Yokai Watch is a show. Kind of like the next generation of Pokemon. Does anybody watch it?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of an intense chapter, so read at your own risk. If you are triggered by rape/non-con, do not read the Dreaming part. It references underage, but not particularly graphic. I feel like it's kind of important to exploring Jason’s psyche though, so if you’re skipping it, do so at your own risk of the rest of the story not being quite as makey sensey.  
> Also, this is the X-rated CONSENSUAL Jason/Dick chapter! Yay!
> 
> Sorry, also have not kept up with replying to comments, but thanks to everyone who commented that they like this story! I really appreciate the encouragement!

~~~~ Sometime in the recent past, Jason dreams ~~~

_ More often than not, when Jason entered the Dreaming the lightswitch of all his memories from there would not flip on.  He would dream just like any other person would. His meetings with Death and Dream were sporadic, so most of the time he was susceptible to the same fantasies and nightmares that affected the rest of the mortal world. Sometimes he would remember, and he would visit old friends and wander the familiar landscapes of the Dreaming.  Sometimes the light would only switch on halfway into his dream, when he would see a familiar face, and he would remember.  Like tonight.  _

_ In his dream, the Red Hood had been chasing a serial rapist through the streets of Gotham.  He was big, and fast, but Jason didn’t get a good look at his face. He had holed up inside an abandoned apartment with a hostage -- one of his victims -- and Jason was going to be damned if he was going to let the sick bastard hurt one more child. He kicked down the door with guns ready, wood splintering with a heavy crack, only to be faced with the visage of his younger self. And behind him, the Corinthian.  _

_ Oh.  The light switched on. _

_ “C? Is that you?” _

_ “Jason, it's been awhile.”  The Corinthian pushed the younger dream-form of Jason forward, and he fell away to the ground, lifeless.  It had taken a while for Jason to understand that dream-forms were not actual sentient people, no matter how real they looked.  And even now, seeing one still disturbed him, especially if it looked exactly like his younger self. _

_ Jason tore his gaze away from the fallen dream-form and looked back at the Corinthian. He was genuinely glad to see him.  “It's good to see you,” Jason smiled, taking off his helmet and observing the dream world around him.  It was a pretty shabby apartment, probably a conglomeration of various dwellings he’d seen in Crime Alley.   _

_ “So,” Jason continued, “you’re doing the rapist circuit now?  What's the deal?”  That made Jason feel slightly uncomfortable.  He knew the Corinthian did things that were abominable.  It was his role as part of the Dreaming.  Without Nightmare it would not be complete, but Jason had had to learn to compartmentalize. _

_ “Who says I haven't always been on the circuit?”  The Corinthian smiled back.  He walked up to Jason and pulled him into an embrace, running his hand alongside his face, and tilting his head back into a kiss.   _

_ Jason returned the kiss briefly, but then pulled away. “Come on, C.  I thought we agreed to just be friends.” _

_ “Sure. Friends with benefits,” he grinned. He wasn’t wearing his shades, and the teeth of one of his socket mouths clacked together. A horrifying parody of a wink. _

_ Jason laughed.  His time with the Corinthian had been destructive and violent, but they had a lot of good times as well.  Though he could never remember it in the waking world, it was his longest standing relationship.  Longer than the time he had spent with Essence.  Besides that, in terms of relationships, all he had was a string of one night stands spanning his travels across the globe.  He had tried to date a woman once, Isabelle… but that had ended in disaster.  So yeah, his track record with relationships wasn’t great.  It was terrible.  Go figure that his most successful and thereafter amicable relationship was with a literal nightmare.   _

_ “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”  Jason hadn’t seen the Corinthian since he started working with Roy and Kori.  They had never been exclusive per se, since Jason wouldn’t remember what was going on between them in the waking world, but when he had started regaining his sanity, he found he needed to distance himself from the outright violence and murderous horrors that the Corinthian encouraged.  The Corinthian had taken it surprisingly well, and though they had initially still seen each other occasionally for what amounted to nightmarish booty calls, their most recent run-ins with each other in the Dreaming had simply been friendly exchanges. _

_ “Oh you know, just doing my job.”  The Corinthian was being cryptic, which was usually a bad sign.  He was normally direct and unapologetic about his nature.  If he was building up to something, Jason wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.   _

_ Sounds of a struggle echoed from behind a closed door behind him.  It sounded like a child, and the muffled voice of a man. _

_ “What's going on?  Is someone else here?”  Jason had a prickling sensation at his back.  He recognized the cadence of those murmuring sounds, the squeak of bedsprings, that breathing….  Suddenly, he was terrified of what he would find behind the door. _

_ “Hey, this is  _ **your** _ nightmare.  I just showed up to say hi.”  The Corinthian said, his face was disturbingly blank, but he waved a hand toward the door, beckoning at Jason to open it. _

_ Jason’s heart was pounding, but he managed to make himself move toward the door, taking a deep breath and throwing it open.  He saw himself, as a boy, naked and tied to the bed.  A faceless john -- literally without a face -- on top of him, rutting and grinding his hips.  Jason backpedaled and slammed the door shut. _

_ “What the fuck is going on!”  Jason was hyperventilating.  “Wha-.  What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded. _

_ “It looks like a memory to me,” replied the Corinthian, matter of factly.  “Aren’t you going to stop it?  Or are you just going to let it happen?” _

_ Jason’s hands were shaking, but he grabbed the door and threw it open again.  He saw himself, still naked and tied to the bed, except he was a little older.  This time the man on top of him was the Corinthian, holding him down and strangling him, pistoning his hips and taking him violently.  Jason backpedaled again and slammed the door shut. _

_ “That’s… that’s not how it happened between us.  This didn’t happen!”  He was sobbing.  “You’ve never hurt me like that.  You wouldn’t!” _

_ “Didn’t I?” the Corinthian replied softly.  He had moved between Jason and the door now, putting a hand on one of Jason’s trembling soldiers, the other lifting his tear streaked face to look at him.  To look at those horrifying maws instead of eyes.  “Didn’t I take advantage of you, when you were young and vulnerable?  When you were completely alone and desperate in the Nightmare, where I held all the power?”   _

_ The Corinthian cupped his cheek, stroked his thumb across Jason’s mouth, tugging his bottom lip open slightly.  “Didn’t I take what was left of your innocence, and turn it into something ugly and scarred?” _

_ No. Nonononono.  Jason collapsed in a heap.  The Corinthian dropped down with him and put his arms around him, pulling him close.  Even in this fucked up situation, Jason leaned into him, finding comfort in the embrace. _

_ “No. It wasn’t like that.  I remember.  You made sure you didn’t hurt me.”  Jason stuttered out, his breath hitching, his body wracked by sobs.  “It wasn’t like that.  It wasn’t,” he repeated. _

_ “Yes.  Yes it was.  Dreams are rarely literal, but you know this.  Do you even remember everything that happened between us?”  Jason shuddered, and the Corinthian wrapped his arms tighter around him, speaking softly into his ear.   “Maybe you don’t, but I did take you when you couldn’t say no.  I took you apart when you were weak.  You never would have consented if you were as you are now.” _

_ “No,” was all Jason could manage to say.  “No.” _

_ “You’re just now healing enough to be able to see it for what it really was.  This here,” the Corinthian gestured to the run-down apartment around them, “is a nightmare Jason, but I didn’t start it.  You did.  You were the one who pulled me here.  Something in you wanted to see this.  Something in you wanted to see the truth.”   _

_ They were leaning against a wall, the Corinthian stroking his hair.  It couldn’t be, thought Jason.  The Corinthian has terrifying and violent, but only enough to show Jason what he did for the Dreaming.  To show Jason what he was created to do.  The Corinthian had never done more than what was necessary, and afterwards, he would comfort Jason.  Show him the kindness that Jason craved. _

_ “I needed you,” Jason said.  “You loved me.  It was fucked up, but I know you did.”  _

_ “Yes.  Yes I did.  And I still do.  But I am what I am, Jason.”   _

_ A nightmare.  A dark reflection of humanity.   _

_ They sat there in silence for a while, Jason slowly calming, trying to control his breathing, until finally he pulled away, wiping at his eyes. _

_ “Maybe you did take advantage of me, C.  Probably, I guess.  It was definitely fucked up, for sure, but I was super fucked up already.  And I was falling apart.  I needed someone to keep me together, and you were there for me.  I don’t regret our time together.  I just don’t.”  Jason felt no bitterness, no hate or rage.   All he felt was a sadness, a loss for who he once was. _

_ “I don’t regret our time together either, but you’re ready to move on.  You just needed to accept this.”  The Corinthian touched him gently again, cupping his face, and placed a light kiss on his forehead.  Jason closed his eyes and accepted it. _

_ “You still have beautiful eyes, Jason.  Don’t look so glum.”  The Corinthian nudged his chin with a knuckle, smiling.  “Time to move on.  Find somebody new.  Or maybe even somebody you already know.”   Jason knew the implications of that. Knew what Destiny had foretold on his page. _

_ “Gee thanks.  I’m even more fucked up now because of you,” Jason retorted, but there was no heat behind it.  The Dreaming messed with his head sometimes.  Cut right through the mental gymnastics he did in the waking world and went to the core of his emotions.  He couldn’t lie to himself in the Dreaming the same way he could when he was awake.  And now, somehow he couldn’t bring himself to be angry for what the Corinthian had done.  For showing Jason what he had done through this godforsaken nightmare.  Yeah.  Jason was fucked up on so many levels. _

_ “Goodbye, Jason. We’ll be seeing each other again soon.”  He clapped a hand on his shoulder one last time.  It was meant to be reassuring, and then he was gone.   _

 

~~~~ Now, Jason~~~

It had taken Jason longer to set up a new safe house than he intended.  Tim’s place was comfortably furnished and protected with a bat-family-paranoid level of security, and he briefly thought about staying there, but in the end decided to keep moving.  He didn’t want Tim to be constantly covering his tracks for him, and Bruce was anything if not persistent.  

He’d found a run down hovel in a mostly abandoned building in the heart of Crime Alley that he would be able to reasonably secure.  It wasn’t exactly his idea of comfortable living, but after a few hacks with the utilities, it had reliable running water and electricity, and it would allow him to keep his ear to the ground with the drug and weapons trafficking rings.  

Tim showed up the day after he moved in, expressing his disapproval at his living conditions, but helping him set up the security equipment he’d brought for Jason nonetheless.  Then, on Tim’s insistence and upon threatening to expose his new location, Jason had ended up texting Bruce, letting him know he was okay.  

“I’m tired of everyone asking me about you.  Do you see this?” Tim had said, pointing at his phone.   “Two hundred and sixty-three messages!  And most of them are from Dick.  Just tell them you’re okay, please?  I want it to stop!”

“Great, now they’re gonna end up texting me instead,” Jason lamented, as he hit the send button on his message to Bruce. “So, uh, how is the golden-boy doing anyway?”  He tried to play it off as a passing curiosity, but Tim wasn’t fooled. 

“He’s totally pissed at you for sneaking off, but he’s fine,” Tim said, rolling his eyes. 

“Why isn’t he mad at you too? You were the getaway!”

“Because you don’t bite the hand that feeds you!”  Tim gave an almost maniacal laugh.  Jason was glad he was a Bat, because otherwise he had a promising career as the world’s most frightening megalomaniac. 

Tim left afterwards, and Jason went back to brooding. Truth be told, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Dick.  The voice from his dream was still echoing in his memory, but embarrassment and his confusing mix of feelings prevented him from reaching out.

Jason refrained from patrolling and kept a low profile the next few nights.  He was working on a lead on the weapons trafficking ring that was involved in their disastrous bust.  He was sitting in front of his laptop, pulling up intel and making plans to crash their party, when one of his silent alarms was tripped.  

Pulling out his Glock he always kept handy, he silently approached the other end of the apartment.  He had chosen this place for its floor plan, with a balance of accessible exits and places to take cover.  The alarm had been tripped at the apartment’s weakest point, where a bay of windows overlooked an alley. He readied his gun and quickly rounded the corner.  

His intruder wasn’t even trying to hide.  It was Nightwing.  And he looked pissed.

Jason dropped his gun, “Dick, what are you--.”  He didn’t have time to finish, because Nightwing had closed the gap between them faster than he could blink and clocked him one.

“Ow,” Jason said, sprawled on the floor. He hadn’t thought Dick would actually hit him and had completely dropped his guard. 

“You are such a jerk.  Do you know how worried I’ve been?”  Dick put out a hand to help Jason up. 

“Nnh,” Jason groaned, still on the floor.  He brought a hand up to touch his throbbing head and winced.  “And you show me how much you love me by punching me in the face?  Some people call that an abusive relationship, Dick-face.”

Jason had meant it as a joke, but Dick looked like he’d been the one sucker-punched, and not the other way around. 

“Jay, I’m so sorry!  I just… I didn't think!”  Dick was all over him now, putting an arm under his elbow and hauling him onto his feet. “You just make me so mad sometimes.  Here, sit down.”

He maneuvered Jason onto the threadbare couch that had come with the apartment, and bent down to look at Jason’s face, pulling off his domino mask as he leaned in close.  “Whoops, that's definitely gonna bruise. Do you have any ice?”

Dick was up before he could reply and rummaging through his refrigerator.  He came back with some cubes of ice wrapped in a dishtowel.  “I, uh, couldn’t find anything else.  Here, let me.”

Dick batted his hands away and leaned in close again, pressing the makeshift icepack over the side of his face.  He was looking at Jason intently, and Jason couldn’t help but stare back awkwardly.  Dick was uncomfortably close.  He could feel the heat from Dick’s body, the pressure of contact where his knee was pressed lightly against his thigh on the couch, the subtle gust of his breath as Dick let out a sigh.  Up close, he could study Dick’s stunning features.  The way his hair fell over the arch of his brow, framing the deep blues of his eyes.  Jason wanted to reach a hand up and trace the sensuous curve of his lips with his fingers. 

Their eyes were locked for longer than could be explained by anything other than mutual attraction, and Jason could feel his heart hammering in his chest.  He swallowed thickly, unable to tear his gaze away. Dick pulled back and dropped the ice pack, a strange expression overcoming his face, and then he leaned in suddenly and sealed their lips in a kiss. 

Jason was so stunned, he simply froze.  Dick pulled away slowly, with that expression on his face again. Jason finally recognized it for what it was.  _ Want _ .  _ Need. _

Jason was too overwhelmed.  He couldn't process it, so he stood up abruptly.  Gave himself space. A protective bubble of air so he could breath. 

“Don't do this shit with me, Dick. Not if you don’t really mean it!”  It came out like an anguished cry, his voice trembling and not at all like the anger he wanted to project. 

Dick looked pained for a moment, before replying quietly, “I mean it, Jason.”  He stood up as well, taking a few steps to close the distance between them. He stopped a step away from Jason before continuing. “I’ve wanted you for a while now. But if you don’t… just tell me, and I’ll go.”

Jason sucked in a breath at that.  “Don’t go,” it was out of his mouth before Jason could think.  He swallowed, his throat tight, and slowly, he put a hand out around Dick’s waist and pulled him closer. “Stay.  I want you to stay.”  

He leaned in, brought their mouths together again, and this time there was no hesitation.  In the next moment he had a hand up under the edge of Dick’s Nightwing suit, and the other reaching down to cup his ass.  Dick responded in turn, and had already loosened Jason’s belt and fly, teasing the skin around the edge of his boxers. 

Jason pressed forward, forcing Dick back a few steps and tipping him onto the couch.  It was like the floodgates had suddenly opened, and Jason didn’t want to hold back anymore.  Couldn’t hold back at this point if he’d tried.  He wanted Dick more than anything, and Dick was responding in kind, leaning back into the couch cushions, and pulling Jason down on top of him.

“Take this stupid thing off,” Jason said, pulling at Dick’s suit.  He was stripped down to his briefs in a few seconds, and Jason was running his hands up and down his sides, relishing in the feel of bare skin.  They kissed again, their mouths hot, hands roaming, hips grinding, meeting each other in glorious friction and pressure.  Jason felt Dick pulling at his shirt, his hand reaching into his jeans, and Jason withdrew just enough to shuck the rest of his clothing.  

Dick rummaged for a moment in his discarded suit and pulled out a condom and lube, putting the articles in Jason’s hands.  Jason arched a brow at the fact that Nightwing was apparently ready for  _ anything _ , but he happily obliged.  Dick slipped out of his briefs.  He was fully hard, his cock slightly weeping.  He stroked himself, relieving some tension, and guided Jason’s fingers with his other hand to his entrance.

“Jason,” Dick breathed, as Jason slipped his slicked fingers inside him, stretching and prodding.  Jason kissed his mouth, his neck, working his way down until he took Dick in his mouth, sucking and tonguing the slit of his member, then taking him all the way into his throat.

That elicited a low moan from Dick, followed by pleasurable gasps, the faint breath of his name.  Jason wanted to hear more, sliding his mouth up and down on his cock and working his fingers inside him, until he found the place that had Dick moaning and writhing beneath him.

Suddenly, Dick pulled back, “not yet!  Jason, wait,” he breathed.  He rolled forward, pressing their mouths together and pushing Jason backwards onto his back and rolling onto his lap. 

Dick had his hands in Jason’s hair, pulled back to break the kiss.  “Jason, I want you.  Inside me.  Tell me you want this.”

“Yes.  Fuck yes.”  Jason’s own voice was strained with tension and need.

Dick positioned himself over him, kneeling with his legs spread apart, knees at Jason’s sides, and guided Jason’s erect member into his entrance.  Sinking himself down slowly, until Jason was buried to the hilt inside him.  

“Fuck,” was all Jason could say, feeling the wet heat and tightness surrounding his cock as Dick began to move himself over Jason, setting the pace.  Jason grabbed at Dick’s hips, watching the column of his torso flex as he moved, thrusting up into him.  They found their rhythm, moving together, quickening the pace, and Jason pulled Dick down to taste his mouth again.  Dick reached between them, stroking himself in rhythm with Jason’s thrusts, pushing back against him until he reached his climax, spilling himself over Jason’s chest and abdomen.  Another few thrusts and Jason was climaxing soon after, clutching Dick’s hips as he spent himself into him.

Dick collapsed on top of him, messily kissing his mouth, the wetness of his seed slick between them.  Jason was still panting, heart racing.  He could feel Dick’s heart beating as well, and the expansion and contraction of his chest as he breathed.

“Don’t leave me again, Jason.  I won’t let you leave.”

Jason didn’t respond.  He didn’t know what to say, and they lay there awhile longer, silent, until Jason shifted, moving out from under Dick.  

“You’re heavy, ” Jason said, standing up.  Dick was looking up at him, a mix of anxious emotion clouding his face.  An anticipation of hurt.  Worry that Jason was going to throw him out, that he was going to regret what had just happened.

And then, looking down at himself, at the evidence of their joined pleasure, of Dick’s spend slick and cooling on his skin.  “Come on, Dick-face, let’s go get cleaned up.”

Dick smiled, the cloud of anxiety clearing.  Jason smiled back, turned toward the bathroom, beckoning Dick to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Jason tried to date Isabelle in the first RHATO and he just got her into trouble. She was taken into space and got drugged at one point.  
> \--- Corinthian/Jason is fucked up on so many levels right? Jason is a mess. The Bat family has NO idea.  
> But at least Jason/Dick has arrived! Yay!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dreaming part of this takes place while Jason is unconscious after he put on the helmet that the Joker booby trapped after Death of the Family (New 52).

~~~~ Sometime in the recent past, Jason dreams ~~~

_ Jason was at the Palace of the Dream Lord again.  The Corinthian had crashed another one of his dreams to pick him up and bring him back to the throne room.  It had been another Joker nightmare, with Jason reliving the beating leading up to his death.  The Corinthian had arrived and promptly cut off his head this time.  Once the shock had worn off, and Jason was jolted into recognition, he was glad to have that nightmare put to an end. _

_ “Same nightmare even after all these years, Jason,” said the Corinthian.  It was a statement, not a question.  _

_ “Give me a break, C.  He turned up again, fucked us up again,” Jason said, trying to recall his last waking memory. Oh right.  Last thing he remembered was putting on his helmet, and getting a face full of Joker toxin. “Shit, am I dead again?” _

_ “No, just in a coma.”  That didn’t make Jason feel any better, but the Corinthian was unconcerned. “Come on, let's go. We have to go see the boss.” _

_ Death was waiting with Dream at the palace when they arrived, and this time, she had someone new with her. _

_ “Todd, what is the meaning of this?  This woman says you know her.  What do you know?”  It was Damian.  Shit. _

_ “Fuck, Damian.  You died?”  Jason had tried to kill the brat at one point, but he had still been slightly insane at that point.  He had gotten over that.  The fact that the little demon had bitten it gave him no satisfaction now. In fact, it felt entirely wrong, senseless, and sad. The brat hadn’t had much of a chance.  _

_ “Our deal,” Jason said, turning to Death suddenly. His fists were clenched in anger, ready to have it out with her.  _

_ “Yeah, yeah.  You can cool it.  I remember. That's why he’s here, Jason.  To wait until it's time to go back.”  _

_ Oh. _

_ “Todd, explain. Now.” Damian huffed. _

_ “Uh.”  Where the heck would Jason even start?  This had been going on for years at this point, and they still didn’t know what would happen beyond that single page Destiny had given them.  And there were things on that page that he didn’t want Damian to see, that would be difficult for him to understand since Jason had not fully understood until he lived them.   How could he explain that he had agreed to go insane, become a monster and a murderer, for the chance of saving his family?  That he only remembered when he was in the Dreaming?  Jason turned these thoughts over in his head, trying to find an explanation that would make sense. _

_ “Your brother here made a deal with us when he died,” Death interceded when Jason failed to answer.  “It extends to you.  You get to go back, if you want, but we have to wait for the right time.” _

_ “What were the terms of this deal?” Damian asked suspiciously.  He was a Bat, and he could perceive that they weren’t telling him something. _

_ “Telling you wasn’t part of the deal, shrimp,” Death shrugged. _

_ “That is not acceptable.  Todd, I am waiting for an answer.” _

_ “Look, Damian,” Jason tried, “I made a bargain to… to help Dick.  All we know is that something is going to happen to him at some point.  Someone takes him.  Someone with the power to down two of the Endless, which is damn near impossible.” _

_ “Something is going to happen to Richard?  Is he going to die?”  That had gotten Damian’s attention.  He was still standing with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, but he was clearly worried.  Any mention of Dick in danger was the only way you could get the stone-cold murderous Robin up into an emotional tizzy. _

_ “We don’t know,” Death said simply.   _

_ “But if that happens, does Richard get the same deal?  Does he get to go back?” _

_ “Maybe.  If there’s a way, I’ll help find it.  But there isn’t always a way.” _

_ Damian was clearly unsatisfied with that answer.  “What can I do to help ensure this does not happen.  I know that I’ve… that I’ve died,” Damian faltered, his expression colored by anguish.  He suddenly looked every bit the lost little boy that he was, and Jason’s heart clenched at the that.   _

_ Damian collected himself quickly however, and continued, “how can I ensure that Richard remains unharmed?” _

_ “There is nothing you can do, child.”  It was Dream who answered.  Jason had almost forgotten he was there.  “That is not your role in this.  I can give you sanctuary here, in the Dreaming, until my sister finds the time for you to return.” _

_ “No, I need to --.” _

_ “Do not argue child.” Dream cut him off.  “There are other places we can put you in your time in between that are not nearly as pleasant.” _

_ Damian was momentarily silenced.   _

_ “Maybe I can--” the Corinthian, who had been standing off to the side, spoke up suddenly.   _

_ “No!”  Dream, Death, and Jason said in unison. _

_ “Absolutely not!”  Jason continued.  He didn’t regret his time with the Corinthian, but that didn’t mean he wanted to give him the chance to do the same thing to Damian. _

_ The Corinthian only grinned. _

_ “I will find a place for him, in his time in between.”  Dream approached Damian, and waved a hand over his head.  “You often dream of animals, and art… music.  You are a creative child.  I have this in abundance in my land.  I will have Lucien find a role for you.”   _

_ A tall man with tufts of red hair, wearing glasses, sidled in through the throne room doors.  Lucien.  Jason gave him a slight smile.  Lucien smiled back, giving Jason a faint nod. _

_ “Todd,” Damian turned to Jason.  He didn’t continue, but Jason could see his fear and anxiety.  If he were any other little boy, he would be seeking comfort, consolement, but he was stubborn.  He had too much pride.  And yet he was lost here, and Jason was the only person he knew. _

_ “Damian,” Jason kneeled next to him.  “It’ll be ok.  Lucien, he’s good.  You can trust him.  He even has a fucking awesome library.  Death will come back for you, and you’ll get your chance to help Dick when you get back.” _

_ Damian only nodded. _

_ “Just stay away from the Corinthian.  Promise me that.  You stay the fucking hell away from him.  No matter what he says, don’t trust him. You got that?”  Jason put his hand on Damian’s shoulder, looking him in the eye as he said it. _

_ “Yes.  Fine,” Damian nodded again.  “Todd, will you come back? Will I still see you here?” _

_ “If I can Damian, I can’t promise you, because I can’t always get here on my own.  But if I can, I’ll come see you.” _

_ With that, Lucien came forward to lead him away. _

_ “I mean it C.  You leave him alone,” Jason said, turning to the Corinthian as soon as Damian had left the room. _

_ “That is an order, Corinthian,” Dream echoed.  “You will not associate with the boy in any way.” _

_ “Of course, Sire.”  The Corinthian seemed unperturbed. _

_ “Now, we have matters to discuss,” Dream said, sitting down on his throne.  “Jason, the power of the Untitled, the All-Caste, your teacher Ducra, we believe there may be a connection to what will happen.”   _

_ “You talked to Ducra?” _

_ “Yes, I did,” said Death.  “She’ll come talk to you soon.  You’re still on the journey she put you on.  But the source of their power, there’s something about it.  We’re not sure what it is yet, but there’s a connection.  Keep your eyes peeled, Jason.” _

_ “That’s it?  That’s all you know?”  Jason asked, frustrated.  They had been waiting for years for some kind of clue, but all they had were more questions. _

_ “I don’t have all the answers yet.  The souls that would have known are moved on or long gone.”   Death shrugged.  “I’m sorry, that’s all I can say for now.” _

_ “Now,” said Dream, “it’s time for you to return to mortal dreams, Jason.  There are things in the waking world that must still play out.” _

_ Dream raised his hand, and Jason was lost again to the Dreaming. _

 

~~~~ Now, Dick POV~~~

The bathroom that Jason had led him to was small and cramped.  Their coupling had been frantic and messy, and Jason only had one clean towel.  It had been easier to hop in the shower than to try and wipe themselves off, but the single-person shower stall meant they had to take turns.  Jason had pushed Dick in first, which afterwards left Dick standing awkwardly for a couple minutes, wrapped in the sole towel, waiting for Jason to finish.

Dick couldn’t help but smile however, when Jason stepped out, dripping wet and slightly flushed. He looked both adorable and devastatingly sexy.  

“What?” Jason even seemed a bit shy.  Even more adorable.

“Nothing,” Dick replied, eyeing Jason’s nude body.  “Just enjoying the view.”

Jason snatched the towel from around Dick’s hips, eyeing him right back.  “Yeah. Me too.”

Dick laughed in reply.

“So, you going back out tonight?”  Jason said, with a little too much forced aplomb.  

That even sounded like maybe Jason didn’t want him to leave.  And here Dick thought he was the only one worried about the other person skipping out.

“No, not unless you want to join me?”  It was three in the morning and most of the action would be dying down by now.  Dick didn’t particularly want to go back on patrol, but he would if Jason wanted to.

“Nah,” was all Jason said.  He finished toweling his hair and walked out of the bathroom.

It was rather a non-committal response, and Dick was left wondering if he was actually invited to stay or not. He didn’t want to assume too much with Jason.  His moods were fickle and hard to predict, and the last thing Dick wanted was to drive him away by being presumptuous.

He followed Jason into another room that had a simple box spring and mattress.  Jason pulled a pair of sweats from a neat stack of clothes in the corner and threw them to Dick.

Okay, Dick thought.  Well that answered the question on whether he was invited to stay. 

Jason threw on a pair of sweats likewise and climbed onto the bed.  Dick joined him, a little unsure of what Jason was comfortable with, but the bed was a tad small for two grown men, so Dick settled in close.

Dick was usually a chatterbox, but it didn't seem like Jason was up for talking, so he tried to remain quiet as well.  He reached out a hand to touch Jason’s face, and he winced slightly where Dick had clocked him earlier.  The light was dim, but he could tell the skin was starting to discolor slightly, the mark of abuse appearing on Jason’s face.  By Dick’s hand no less.

“I’m sorry for punching you earlier.”

“You already said that, Dickie.”  

“I know, but I need to say it again.  I shouldn't have done it.  I came here to see you.  To make sure you were okay.  I don’t know why I reacted that way.”

“Like I said, it's fine, Dick.  I punched you in the face when you came back from being not-dead too. I even tried to kill you once or twice.  We beat each other up.  It's almost like a tradition.  Let's just forget it.”  Jason made light of it, but there was something extremely disturbing about how readily they excused physical violence towards each other. Dick didn’t want to think too hard about what that meant, so he changed the subject.

“I had a hard time finding you. Tim wouldn't give you up.”

“How  _ did _ you find me?”

“I was with Bruce when you texted him.  He traced the location, but he wouldn't tell me.  He told me to give you space.  To leave you alone. I tried, but I had to see you, so I begged Alfred to find out.  I don’t know what he did, but he texted me the location tonight.”

Jason laughed.  “Oh man, that is the lamest-ass detective work ever Dickie.  Bruce would be ashamed.”  

“Hey, don’t judge, it worked didn't it?”  Dick knew he’d never live it down if Tim or Damian got wind of it, but it made Jason laugh, so totally worth it.

Jason surprised him when he said, “I’m glad you found me. I wanted to see you too.”  Jason had a serious look on his face, but then more playfully, “If I knew we’d end up fucking on the couch I would have called you earlier.”

“What stopped you?” Dick asked curiously.

“Well for one, I thought you were straight. And two, you’re always calling me your brother.”

“Well, how about brothers in arms, that make you feel better?” Dick joked.  “And Roy and Kori never told you?”

“No, we never talked about you.”

“Bastards.”

Jason just smiled in response, and Dick twined their fingers together.

“So,” Dick paused a moment.   “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?  Why you disappear every time we’ve been getting close?”

Jason looked away, not meeting his eyes, pulling his hand away.  Dick held his breath.  He had misstepped, said the wrong thing, and now Jason was closing himself off again.  Shit.  Dick’s mind scrambled for something to say, to fix it and bring it back to what they had just a few moments ago.  He was surprised when after a few aggravating moments Jason took his hand again, meeting his eyes, and spoke.

“I’m not good at this, Dick.”

“Good at what?”

“Whatever this is. What you want this to be. I can’t promise I won’t run away, that I won’t fuck up.”

“It's okay, Jay.  If you run away, I’ll come find you, and we can work it out.”  Dick leaned in and kissed him gently.

Jason returned the kiss.  It was soft, and even sweet.   “Okay.”  

Dick, ever the cuddler, squirmed in closer and Jason brought a blanket up over the both of them. They fell asleep that way, tangled in each others warmth. 

 

~~~~ Now, Jason’s POV~~~

Jason woke to a slight movement, and that strange feeling prickled in his gut.  That feeling that preceded the presence of dark magic, that had his All-Blades roiling to come out.

“Essence,” Jason breathed.

“Hello, Jason.”  She appeared out of the darkness, floating slightly, looking down at Jason, and then at Dick’s still form next to him laying in the bed.  A look of surprise, and hurt perhaps, crossed her face for a moment.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

Jason stood up quietly, pulled a discarded pair of boxers on and beckoned her out of the room into his makeshift living room.  He hadn’t seen Essence since that whole mess when he had defeated Drakar and R’as Al’Ghul at the Well of Sins.  They had left amicably, even with Essence seeming to want to rekindle their relationship, but Jason had turned her down.  He trusted her, but he hadn’t expected her to turn up after he had just slept with Dick.  Plus if it had something to do with the All-Caste, it wasn’t something he necessarily wanted Dick to hear.

Something tickled in the back of his mind, as well.  Like he was supposed to remember something.  The Well of Sins.  He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but he had a vague memory.  In a dream, he thought, that he was supposed to be watching for something.

“Isn’t that…”  Essence broke into his train of thought.  She was looking back at the bedroom, where Dick was still asleep.

“Yes, it is,” was all Jason said.  He didn’t want to talk to her about Dick, so he continued, “What’s going on?  Why are you here?  Something tells me this isn’t a social call.”

Essence turned back to look at Jason, her pale skin and hair flowing in the air.  That triggered a memory for Jason.  A man.  With similar features.  White skin and hair and dark, depthless pits for eyes.

“I have been working to purify the darkness of the Well of Sins, but it has proven difficult.  Perhaps I am in need of your skills at purification.”   Essence had had trouble letting go of the dark powers that consumed her, and had never been able to master the purification rites as Jason innately had.  “There is something disturbing what is left of the dark power.  I can feel it, but I can’t determine its source.  I came here to warn you there is something amiss.”

The Well of Sins again.  The man in white.  He realized his was the voice that Jason had heard in his dreams, warning him about Dick.  And he had also warned of the Well of Sins.  He wracked his brain, putting a hand to his head, trying to remember.  His head hurt, and not just from where Dick had clocked him.  It was as if recalling the memory itself was painful.

“Jason?”  Essence was looking at him, questioning.  “Do you know something?”

“I’m not sure.  I think I’ve been having dreams.  Someone warned me about the same thing, but I can’t remember.  Is it R’as?  He was pretty obsessed over the Well of Sins.”

“I am not sure anymore, but I will find out.  I don’t sense any interference in your mind, but I am not adept at this.  I can ask S’Aru to delve into your memories perhaps.”  Essence looked concerned.  She had probably noticed the bruising starting to form on his face as well, but didn’t mention it.  

“No, I don’t want that bastard near my head again.”  S’Aru had taken his memories once, and Jason wasn’t about to let anyone do it again if he could help it.

“Fine then.” Essence knew how painful Jason’s memories were, and he was thankful that she didn’t push.  “I am tracing the source of the disturbance.  I will be back when I know more.  Perhaps your memories will have resurfaced when I return.”

“How do I contact you?”  It wasn’t like Essence had a phone number.  Jason could make it back to the Acres of All, but it would take time to get there and it involved traveling through the ass-end of nowhere.

Essence just shook her head.  “I will return and I will find you.”  And then she was gone.

“Jason?”  Dick was standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

“How much of that did you hear?”  Jason wasn’t surprised Dick had woken at some point.  He was a Bat after all.

“Enough to know something’s up.  Anything I can help with?”  

Jason turned, approaching Dick, taking hold of his shoulders.  “Dick, this is going to sound crazy, but something's going to happen.  To you specifically.  I don’t know how, but I just know.  Don’t go anywhere alone okay?”

Dick looked back at him with an eyebrow raised, disbelieving.  

“Okay,” he finally said, and placed a kiss on Jason’s lips.  “But you’re going to have to fill me in on what I’m supposed to be looking out for.  And who was that creepy woman?”

Jason sighed.  It was dawn now, and the light was creeping in through the window.  They had only slept a few hours.  Nothing unusual given their nighttime activities, but it seemed like in the last few hours the world had turned upside down.  He discovered his so-called brother shared his feelings, and they had fucked.  And it had been fantastic.  Never in his wildest dreams had he thought that would actually happen.  Then his ex-girlfriend showed up, confirming the niggling paranoia that had been festering since he and Dick had almost drowned.  Jason felt tired, but the thought of dreaming made him anxious.

“I’m gonna make some coffee.”  Jason turned toward the kitchen, but Dick grabbed a hold of his wrist.

“Jason, whatever it is, I’ll be careful okay.  It’s going to be okay.”  Dick smiled reassuringly, and Jason was comforted to know that Dick was taking him seriously.  That he didn’t think Jason was just going crazy again.

But he wasn’t going crazy.  Essence had just confirmed that.  Something bad was going to happen, and Jason would do whatever was in his power to keep Dick safe.  

“I’ll tell you what I know, but it's not much.”  Jason said.  Dick nodded, lacing their fingers together.

Jason’s chest felt tight.  This thing with Dick -- whatever it was that they started together last night -- he wasn’t about to let it go.  Not without a fight.  He had yearned too long, been through too much to just let someone take it away.  If someone was coming for Dick, they would have to get through him first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- The Well of Sins is from RHATO. It is where the Lazarus pits come from. No one knows its true origin. R’as Al’Ghul tried to take its power, but Jason defeated him using a move that he learned from Talia and his teacher Ducra.  
> \--- In case you didn't know, in the New 52, Essence was Jason’s first girlfriend. She was the daughter of his teacher Ducra, and had dark, probably evil powers.  
> \--- In RHATO #18, Ducra comes to talk to Jason in his Dreams right before he wakes up from his coma in RHATO. Then Bruce gives him a hug. Yay for canon DaddyBats.  
> \--- Not important to this story, but S’Aru took Jason’s memories in RHATO, and he forgot everything until right before he defeated R’as Al’Ghul  
> \--- The Acres of All is the home of the All Caste. Jason lived and trained there with Ducra.


	9. Chapter 9

~~~~ Sometime in the recent past, Jason dreams ~~~

_ “Where is he?  He’s here isn’t he?  Where’s Dick?”  Jason burst through doors of the throne room in the Palace of the Dreaming, frantically scanning the room for the ghost of Dick Grayson, but the only people there were Death and Dream. _

_ “Well hello to you too, Jason.”  Death had her hands on her hips, a reprimanding look on her face.  _

_ “Sorry.  Sorry, it's just… they told me he died.  That the Crime Syndicate killed him.”  Jason tried to breath through the tightness in his chest. “I just thought that you’d bring him here. Like you did with Damian.” _

_ “He is not here, Jason,” Dream replied matter-of-factly. _

_ “So you mean he’s not dead?”  Jason’s voice was filled with hope. It was a lot harder to mask how he really felt when he was in the Dreaming. Emotions and thoughts surfaced more easily, as if the normal filters of the mind in the waking were blown wide open here.   _

_ “Nope.  Not dead.”  Death gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. _

_ Jason let out the breath he had been holding, and perhaps to both of their surprises, Jason put his arms around her and gave her a quick hug.  “Thanks.”  And then, realizing what he had done, let go just as quickly.   “Sorry, I just… I’m just glad I guess.” _

_ “It's okay, Jason.”  She hooked an arm around his and started to guide him out of the throne room. “Dream, I’ll be right back.  Jason, come walk with me.”  They walked out into the hall.  “Remember when you all thought Bruce was dead for a while, but he turned up eventually anyway?” _

_ “So what?  You’re saying Dick is lost in time?”  When Bruce had disappeared, Jason was still not quite in his right mind.  But if Dick was really lost in time, Jason might need to find a way to get him back.   _

_ “No, nothing that complicated,” Death was pulling him toward an open balcony. Probably the same one on which he had originally met the Corinthian. “What I mean is,” Death continued, “is that he’ll probably turn up eventually, but there’s nothing you can do about it.  You won’t remember that he’s still alive in the waking.” _

_ “Shit.  I fucking hate this,” Jason growled in frustration.  He kicked the balcony baluster to punctuate his words.  “At least he’s not really dead,” Jason sighed.  _

_ Death leaned her elbows on the railing and looked over the landscape.  The skies were a deep azure blue, and today they could see all the way out to the snow lined mountains in the distance. Jason followed her gaze and studied the landscape as well.  The view was breathtaking, and Jason was again saddened by how much he forgot when he was awake.  _

_ “I did see him, actually,” Death spoke up.  “For barely a minute or two.  His heart stopped, but he went right back as soon as they got his heart going again.” _

_ “Oh.  I guess you didn't really have to do anything then,” Jason said absently.  He was still looking out at the landscape, mulling something over in his mind. _

_ “I did want to make sure he went back, per our deal.”   She turned to look directly at Jason and smirked then.  “He’s super hot. I can see why you’re so hung up on him.” _

_ “He’s a major jackass,” Jason snorted.   _

_ “Takes one to know one,” she teased back.  “Seriously though, you’re a lot better now in the waking.  But you still don't let your family in much. What's the deal?  I thought that's what you wanted?  I thought you wanted to get close to Dick?” _

_ Jason didn’t turn to look at her, he kept his eyes averted, staring out at the view.  The sky was just starting to get a tinge of pink.  The sun was starting to set, and soon Jason knew there would be a burst of unbelievable color as the sky transitioned to darkness.  _

_ “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “It's like I’m two different people. There's the me in the Dreaming, and there’s the me in the waking.  I wish I could just be one person, but you won’t let me.” _

_ “We’ve been through this, Jason,” Death said sympathetically.  _

_ “I know, and you’re probably right too. I couldn't handle knowing everything when I’m awake.  I’d probably implode.”  He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “But it's not just that. I just don't think they would understand.  Even  _ I _ barely understand.” _

_ “You want them to forgive you, but you don't think they will if they knew the truth.”  Death stated, and it seemed to hit Jason like a stone.  He even winced a little and withdrew into himself, crossing his arms and huddling at the edge of the balcony.  _

_ “No.”  Jason’s face twisted in grief and pain.  “How could I expect anyone to forgive me, if I can’t even forgive myself?” _

_ Death moved toward him and gently encircled him with her arms.  She didn’t say anything.  There wasn’t anything she could say that would convince Jason to accept himself and what he had done.  He would eventually reconcile himself with his family at least.  She knew because it was right there on Destiny’s page, but Jason just had to work through it on his own.  In the meantime, all she could do was let him know that at the very least, Death would understand. _

  
  


~~~~ Now, The Su’Nual Temple, Somewhere in the Steppes of Asia~~~

The caverns of Su’Nual was an intricate maze of narrow passages that crisscrossed the bed of the mountains surrounding the steppes.  Eons of erosion had hollowed out large underground grottoes that a people of old, long died out and forgotten, had carved into their most sacred of temples. The gods, deprived of worship and prayers, had long died away or moved on.  The only thing left behind were cryptic clues to their secrets, carved into the earthen walls and still channeling the energy of the elements. 

It was here that a cloaked figure walked silently into the narrow entrance of the temple. He had long ago hidden an ancient stone, found at the very bottom of the Well of Sins itself, in this sacred place.  The stone itself, dark and vibrating with dormant power, had been a puzzle since its discovery.  He had kept it secret from the others, he had known it would be coveted, so he kept it for hunself. Intricate sigils had been carved into its surface, yet it predating any known language or lore.  It had taken him centuries to piece together enough clues to begin to unlock its secrets, and now he had it. 

An archanic tome, one of a rumoured set of seven, had survived.  A single sigil it held had matched one carved into the stone. Stowed away by secret orders, sought after by demons, old gods, magicians, and even the fae, he had found them secreted away by an old collector.  The man had claimed that one of its sister tomes had succeeded in entrapping an ancient god for decades, a god of dreams.  Now he had the key.  Now he would have the power to enact revenge.

Scholars had attempted to decipher it, but he was perhaps the last on Earth who recognized it to be a form of an ancient summoning rite.  The key this time however, was the addition of the sigil. He began the ritual, chanting the summoning in slow melodic tones, holding the stone as it began to glow with power. He no longer had access to his own power.  Not after _that_ _boy_ had denied him access to the Well, but he could use the temple he now stood in to channel the energy of the Earth.

His thoughts moved back to the boy.  His sister’s prized pupil.  Jason Todd.  The boy had proven formidable, and he had not been adequately prepared for the Well of Sins to turn on him, but he would not be defeated again.  Nothing so simple as a broken neck could put him down. He hadn’t lived as long as he had without learning how to preserve his own life after all. Once he summoned the god and stole its power, the boy would pay. He would take everything he held dear and destroy it. 

He continued the chanting, forcing power through the channels of the earth and into the stone.  He had drawn the sigil on the  floor of the temple, laid out the chains, and he could feel the pull increasing in force. He chanted the last line, forcing the words to come forth from his mouth until finally, in a crackle of energy, a form appeared within the sigil.

“Ah!”  A slight form appeared, entangled in the chains. It was a girl, not what he was expecting, but he knew the gods could be deceptive.

“Who… who are you?  Who has summoned me?”  The girl stuttered, looking toward him.

“I am Drakar, and I force you to submit!”  He raised the stone, chanting the lines of the rite again.  He could feel it now, the immense power of the girl beginning to flow into the stone.  He pushed harder, feeling the essence of the stone penetrate against her will. 

The girl began to scream. 

“Yes!” Drakar shouted.  It was more than he could have imagined, he could see the enormity of her realm in his mind’s eye. 

He began to laugh.  The horrific sounds mingling with the girl’s screams. 

“Yes,” he thought, feeling the power course through his body. This was only the beginning. 

  
  


~~~~ Now, Bruce~~~

There was something going on with Dick and Jason.  Bruce had noticed it started a few weeks ago when he had called Nightwing in for backup, and to his surprise, Red Hood had shown up too.  He hadn’t questioned it at the time. He knew that they patrolled together on occasion, and at the time he had needed the extra help.

He was glad to be seeing more of Jason as well.  The incident where the two boys had nearly drowned was still in recent memory, and the guilt at having not ensured that they were adequately prepared for the stolen tech had eaten at him for days.  Plus he had missed being there when Jason woke up, and it aggravated him to no end that he had let his most mercurial son slip out from right under his nose. 

Tim had informed him that Jason was safe, and for the most part physically recovered, but that he had some ongoing concerns about Jason’s mental state. Bruce hadn’t been happy at all with what Tim had done, but he didn’t want to risk alienating them both so he did his best to refrain from any sort of reprimand.  

It had been an incredible relief when Jason finally texted him, opening the lines of communication again, and it gave him the opportunity to track down his location. Bruce had been unhappy that Tim was covering their tracks, but he was even less happy when he found out where Jason was living.  He had always wanted to give his sons the  space and freedom to choose how they conducted their lives, but not when they made damn stupid choices that put their own lives in danger. He had tried to respect Jason’s privacy, but when he got the hint from Alfred several days later that Dick was still trying to track down Jason, he had simply pulled up a map in Alfred’s presence that showed Jason’s location.  He hadn’t even needed to say a word. 

Bruce just felt more comfortable when he could track his sons’ regular movements across the city. Jason had previously flat out refused to be under any sort of surveillance, but now that Red Hood was hanging around Nightwing, he could keep tabs on them both under the pretense of having had tacit agreement from Dick.  

He had been even more concerned that first night Red Hood had shown up with Nightwing, because once they had gotten back to the cave after the mission, Jason had removed his helmet, revealing a rather impressive bruise on the side of his face.

“What happened?” Bruce had immediately demanded.  All his Robins were excellent fighters. Taking a hit directly to the face usually meant they went up against a truly formidable foe, or that they had gotten careless.

“It's nothing.”  Jason had tried to shrug it off.  “I made a mistake and some asshole jumped me.  No big deal.”

Dick made an audible choking sound at that, probably sharing Bruce’s concern at Jason being in a state where he could make such a mistake.

“You weren’t wearing your helmet.”  It came out more like an accusation than the simple statement Bruce had meant.

“No.”  The irritation was clear in Jason’s voice.  “I was… undercover.”

“Jason, you shouldn't be out in the field yet. You took a while to regain consciousness after you nearly drowned. You might be suffering from effects of something we missed.  I’ll have Alfred run some more tests. We can call Leslie --.”

“I said I’m fine,” Jason interrupted.  “I just dropped my guard when I shouldn't have.  I know what I did wrong and it won’t happen again.”   He shot a pointed look at Dick, who had a purposeful blank look on his face. 

His boys were hiding something from him.  That much was clear, but neither of them were sharing, so he had let it drop for the time being. 

He realized Jason’s presence was becoming a pattern over the next few weeks when Jason showed up a second, and then a third time when he contacted Nightwing.  He was used to relying on Dick for backup when he needed to cover more ground, and to keep Damian in line when he knew situations would be volatile.  He had started to rely on Red Hood showing up as well, but the fourth time he called Nightwing to the cave, the Red Hood was absent.  He took that as an opportunity to question Dick.

“Where’s Jason?”

“He’s um, busy tonight.  With Crime Alley.”  Dick shrugged nonchalantly.

“I understand he’s taken an interest in the trafficking rings there.  What are his plans?”

“Taking out crime bosses, you know, the typical.  He’s been snooping around the streets a lot, getting intel.”

“And he’s been keeping in line?”  Bruce didn’t need to say what he meant, that his real question was whether or not Jason had been killing.

“Jeez, Bruce.  I’m not his babysitter, but as far as I know, yes.  He’s put a few of the traffickers in the hospital, but that’s about it.”  Dick was getting touchy, clearly not appreciating being questioned, but Bruce pushed on.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time together.”  

“Okay, now that’s not even a question.  What are you getting at, Bruce?  Just spit it out.”  Dick had his arms crossed over his chest, uncomfortable with where this was going.

“I just want to understand,” said Bruce, trying to sound less like an interrogator.  “I’m glad you and Jason are getting along, that’s he’s willing to help, but he’s not usually so… cooperative.”  It was downright out of character for Jason, in fact, and Bruce knew something was going on, he just didn’t know what.

Dick was pensive, looking down for a moment, brows knitted together.  Bruce could see he was turning his options over in his mind before he spoke.  “He’s worried, Bruce.  I don’t know if it's some kind of premonition, or a hunch, but he thinks something’s going to happen to me.”  Dick sighed, uncrossing his arms, and returning his gaze toward Bruce.

“I know what you’re thinking, that he’s losing it again,” Dick continued.  “But we had confirmation from an old associate of his that something’s going on.  I didn’t fully understand it, but it has a mystical aspect to it. Jason didn’t want to say much, and I couldn’t push him anymore.”

“You should have brought this to my attention sooner.  If you’re in danger--”

“You’d want to put me under house arrest,” Dick cut in.  “Which is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.  Look Bruce, I know you’re just trying to protect me, but I can handle this.  Jason’s watching my back.”

“But he’s not here tonight.”

“No, he’s not.”  Dick didn’t elaborate, and Bruce wanted to continue, but just then Damian entered the cave.

“Richard, it is good to see you join for tonight’s mission.”  Damian glanced quickly around, noting that Jason wasn’t there.  “Oh good, you came to your senses and left that imbecile with the rest of the scum.”

Dick smiled in response and ruffled Damian’s hair.  Bruce let the topic drop for the moment.  They had to get through the night’s mission first. “We’ll continue this later,” he noted, and Dick just looked annoyed. 

The mission went off smoothly, but as soon as the last thug was down however, Nightwing took off, claiming he had to follow up on a lead. It was clearly an excuse to avoid talking to Bruce.  Making sure Damian was in the batmobile and on the way back to the cave, Bruce decided to follow. 

Dick had a lead on him, but Bruce had an idea where he had gone.  Crime Alley. He was going to talk to Jason. 

Sure enough, he found the two of them on a shadowed roof at the edge of town.  Bruce perched on a neighboring building, observing them. 

Jason was leaning casually against the side of a rooftop assembly, dressed as the Red Hood.  He had his helmet off, smoking, but he was wearing a domino.  Dick was still in his Nightwing attire, pacing, waving his arms in the air. 

“He started grilling me on you, Jay. What was I supposed to say?”  Bruce couldn’t hear their conversation from his perch in the shadows, so he had hacked Nightwing’s built in communicator.

“Maybe you should have told him the truth?”  Jason blew out a slow breath, smoke swirling in the air. He didn’t seem bothered by Dick’s agitation.

“I will, but not like that, and especially not if you’re not there to take the heat too!”  Dick huffed.  He stopped pacing and now had his arms crossed in a petulant stance. 

“Stop getting your panties in a bunch, Dickie. He’s bound to find out sooner or later anyway. Might as well tell him.”

Dick made a frustrated noise at that.  “You weren't the one under interrogation!  Besides, Damian was there too.”

“Even better. Maybe it's good you held back though. I’d love to see the look on that little shit’s face when he finds out.”

Dick huffed again and stalked over to Jason, grabbing the cigarette out of his mouth and stomping it out on the floor. 

“Aw come on Dickie, I needed that to get through your little whinge-fest,” Jason said with his usual sarcasm, but he was smiling at Dick, and Dick was smiling in return.

“I don't know why I put up with you,” and to Bruce’s shock, he stepped forward to give Jason a kiss.

“You’re not worried at all about how he’s going to react? You don’t think he’ll be pissed?”  Dick said, pulling away. 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Jason said, his posture suddenly stiff and eyes glaring past Dick into the shadows.  “He’s standing right there.”  Jason pointed directly at where Batman was hunkered in the shadows. 

Busted. Bruce stepped out into the open, dropping from his perch to stand in front of them.

Dick jumped away from Jason, almost comically, “It's not what it looks like!’

“Really, Dick?” Jason said with an arched brow.  “If it's not what it looks like, then what is it?  Because from where I’m standing, it looks like we’re fu--.”

“Okay fine!” Dick interrupted, waving his arms again.  “It is  _ exactly  _ what it looks like.”  Dick covered his face with his hands. Jason was lighting another cigarette, but even in the dim light Bruce could see the blush covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

“I can’t believe you followed me, B!  That’s … argh! I should have known!”  Dick grabbed at his hair in exasperation. 

Bruce wasn’t sure what to think.  He hadn’t expected this, that two of his sons would become  _ involved.   _ “How long has this been going on?” he growled out.

“A couple months,” Dick answered.

Bruce let out a breath, longer than he thought but a little relieved that this new relationship didn't go back any further.   That sounded entirely wrong as soon as he thought it, but it seemed his best option was to resign himself to accept it.  He wasn’t as angry as he thought he should be.   He certainly wasn't pleased with it, but he wasn’t entirely displeased either. He knew Dick had his share of unsuccessful relationships, but he wasn’t reckless or careless with the people he involved himself with.  If he was getting involved with Jason, it wasn’t just a fling.  It meant something to him.  Jason he wasn’t sure of, since Bruce had never observed him involved with anyone.  He had been too young when he died, and Bruce wasn’t privy to anything of the sort since he had returned.  But he had seen enough of Jason in the last few months to know he wasn't being malicious. He had nearly died trying to save Dick’s life, in fact. 

“You’re both adults,” he said finally.  “I won’t interfere with your…  _ relationship _ .  Keep it off the rooftops, and don't let it interfere with your jobs.”

“That’s it?” Dick asked.

“No.  What you said earlier, about believing you were in danger, was that true?”

“That part’s no lie,” Dick confirmed. 

Bruce turned to Jason now, expecting an explanation.  Jason had been avoiding meeting his eyes, but looked up now to meet his gaze.  

“I don’t have much more than a hunch, but it has something to do with an ancient power source, the Well of Sins. R’as was after it at one point, but my uh, associate, has taken control of it.  She’s guarding it, trying to purify it.”

“I take it this is someone you trust.  I’ll look into any recent intel on R’as and the League.  You should have brought this to me sooner.”

“All I had was a hunch, and some messed up dreams.  You wouldn't have believed me,” Jason said defensively. 

“I would have listened.  I would have investigated and questioned you, but I wouldn’t have dismissed your concerns.  Whatever our differences have been, I know you’re competent and capable.  I would take any threat you brought to my attention, hunch or not, seriously.  I thought you understood that,” Bruce said sternly, his voice brooking no argument.  “Keep me posted on any developments, and continue to stay close to Nightwing.”

Bruce could see Jason had been gearing up to argue, but he seemed momentarily at a loss for words.

Bruce turned back to Dick, and in a softer voice said, “take care of Jason.  Make sure he’s taking care of himself.”  He moved to the edge of the rooftop and shot a grapple line out,  disappearing into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Random fact: the Steppes of Asia is a real place. I have no idea if it has caverns or not. Probably though. There is a short orchestral piece called “The Steppes of Central Asia” by Alexander Borodin. It's a gorgeous piece with a very cinematic feel to it, and not at all dark or grim like this fic. Check it out if you can.  
> \--- When I was envisioning the ancient temple, I thought of the Longyou Grottoes in China, which is not on the steppes but pretty cool nonetheless.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Desire is both genders, and was referred to as “it” in the Sandman series, for lack of a better word in the English language. So I will refer to him/her as “it” from here on.  
> \--- The Endless have sigils, sometimes in paintings or as a symbol hung on a wall in a gallery, that they seem to use to call each other, like a transdimensional intercom.  
> \--- Wow, I better get to finishing this thing. I think its actually going to total 18 chapters. I just have to finish 17 and 18, then this thing is done!

~~~~ Now, Desire ~~~

Desire did not like waiting.  Desire did not particularly like babysitting it’s unstable little sister either.  Their brother, Destruction, had not minded, but if they stayed together too long, strange things happened. Destruction happened, even though he had long ago abandoned his duties. So Delirium had reached out to Desire, and as much as it resented having to play nursemaid to its psychologically damaged sister, Desire did not want to lose another sibling.  Desire had not been directly responsible for the Death of Dream’s previous incarnation, but his Death did not give Desire the satisfaction it had thought it wanted. Desire had in fact found the ending of one of the Endless terrifying.  So now, for the last few weeks, Desire was playing nursemaid.

Delirium had missed their rendezvous however, and now, back in it’s gallery, Desire stood at it’s sister’s sigil, concerned.

“Delirium, I stand at your sigil and call you.  Where are you?”

It stood their a moment, impatiently awaiting a response, when suddenly a portal opened, and a dark mass exploded into Desire’s realm.

“Ngh, what the --!”   _Something_ pulled, and Desire was sucked through, crashing in a heap onto a dusty floor.  “Delirium, you little bitch, what are you --.”  It stopped speaking, shocked, when it looked up to see it’s sister, tangled in chains, crying.  There was a dark mist coming from her eyes, nose and mouth, spilling out in continuous waves into the air.  She had a strange amulet around her neck, the dark stone glinting in the dim light.

“Who did this to you?”  Desire said angrily, and approached its sister to free her, grabbing at the chains, when Delirium's hand shot out, grabbing at its wrist.

“Run!” She managed to whisper, but it was too late.  The dark mist flowing out of her mouth was forming into tendrils, wrapping around Desire, working up its arms and pushing into its eyes, nose, and mouth.  Desire pulled back, trying to flee, but it felt the dark mist invading its very core, sucking out its energy.  Sucking out its life.

“No,” Desire cried, falling, and was dragged by the tendrils back to Delirium’s side.  

“Well done, my little godling.  You’ve brought a friend to play.”  A man in a hooded cloaked stepped into view.  He laughed to himself quietly, mumbling nonsense.  His face changed from giddy to serious, then back again.   _He was insane_ , but Desire could tell he was behind this.  He was the one draining its sister’s power, draining the the energies of her realm and taking it into himself.  But he had a mortal soul, unable to fully cope with Delirium’s madness, and it was already eating at and destroying his mind.  And now Desire could feel him draining at it too, draining at Desire’s very essence, taking into himself the overpowering _wanting and need_.  

“You’ll pay for this, mortal filth.”  Desire struggled to stand, to push back, but the power was too strong.  This power, it was terrifyingly familiar, and belatedly Desire realized what it was.  A fragment of the Void.  A fragment of its mother, Night, somehow left behind on this Earth, and found by this disgusting man.

“No.  You don’t know what you've done.”  Desire fought back, but it was failing fast, falling into blackness, into the terrifyingly cold void of Night.  One of the few things in the earthly realm that could harm the Endless.  That could potentially end this entire existence.  

“Sister, help me.”  One last desperate plea, Desire clawed out a sigil on the ground, calling out to its twin, the Endless known as Despair.  “You must warn the others.”  The dark mist was choking it now, closing off its voice.  It pulled one last gasp, and then Desire knew nothing, lost to the blackness of Night.

______

 

Drakar looked down at the two figures before him and laughed.  Yes, one more little god to feed him.  One more little god to play.  He shuffled his feet, a dance, he thought.  Because he had won against the silly gods.  It had been so long since he had danced, and he laughed again.  And then he sobered.  Then he felt giddy.  His mind kept wandering until his gaze settled again on the two figures, laying so still before him, like they were dead.  Eyes and mouths open, spewing the black mist like smoke from smothered embers.

This new one was interesting.  He could feel it filling him with want and lust.  It was creeping into his mind and soul as he pulled more power into himself.  And it felt glorious.  It was magnificent.  He never knew this kind of yearning, and he wanted to fulfill it.  That’s right, he remembered now.  He wanted that boy.  He wanted revenge so strongly he could taste it.  And this new god had known the boy, had touched him recently, because the boy had held Desire so close to his heart.  The boy, Jason, had wanted another boy.  Another boy with dark hair and blue eyes.  A boy with a beautiful face, and an even more beautiful soul.  Dick Grayson.  His name came into his mind, and he knew where to find him.  He would find this new boy and destroy him, because more than anything he wanted his revenge on Jason Todd.

Drakar laughed again, the sound of his voice echoing off the cavern walls.

Yes.  He knew his plan now.  He would take the new boy, and make Jason watch as he killed him.  It would destroy him, just like Jason had destroyed everything Drakar had built, and he would kill him.  Slowly.  Watch him suffer.  He would have his sweet revenge.

 

~~~~ Now, Dick’s POV ~~~

“I wish you would stop saying that,” Dick said, climbing in after Jason into his hovel of an apartment.

“What? You mean calling you Dick-face?  Because, no.  I like it.  And now it has a whole new meaning,” Jason teased, a lewd smile crossing his lips.

“No, you pervert,” Dick tried to sound appalled, but was unable to hide his own grin.  

Dick was still reeling from their confrontation with Bruce.  It had actually gone better than he had expected.  No one had gotten punched in the face.  No one had gotten shot.  Bruce had simply said he wouldn’t interfere, and told him to take care of Jason.  That was about as good as it could get, short of a congratulatory hug and a coming out party.

Yeah, it had gone swell, except Jason tended to play down the emotional part of their relationship, even though Dick knew it was more than just the physical aspect for him too.  He could tell by the way Jason would squeeze back when Dick laced their fingers together.  Or the way he would make breakfast for them in the mornings, and remember the way Dick liked his pancakes and coffee.  He knew by the way Jason would worry whenever Dick was out of his sight, and by the gentle peck on the lips he would get before they parted to go on separate missions or patrols.  He could tell by the way Jason would kiss him so sweetly after they’d made love.  Jason hated that phrase, and laughed at him the one time Dick had thrown it out there, but that’s what it was to Dick.  

“No,” he said, more seriously this time, “I mean us.  That we’re fucking.  That’s not what this is.  It's more than that to me.  And I know it's not just that to you too.  But that’s what you were going to say to Bruce.  That we were just fucking.”  

“You mean what I was about to say when you tried to deny it?” Jason snorted back.

Shit.  “I… okay.  I tried to deny it, but not because of what you’re thinking.”  Dick said, totally caught out.  “It just felt like… I had been caught robbing the cradle, sort of.  I mean, you were just a kid when we met.  I didn’t want Bruce to think that I was taking advantage, you know?”  It was the truth.  He’d felt a little bit like a lecher when he’d been hiding his attraction to Jason and had thought his feelings wouldn’t be returned, even though he was obviously no longer a boy.  The thought had never crossed his mind before Jason had died.  The physical attraction had really only developed since Jason had returned fully grown, and the emotional attraction when Jason had started letting him in -- when they had started patrolling together and spending more time together.

“I hate to break it to you Dick-face, but the cradle got robbed long before you showed up,” Jason said darkly.

“Wait, what?”  Dick had meant it metaphorically… but that sounded like Jason was talking about it in more concrete terms, and it made a feeling of tightness form in the pit of his stomach.

Jason didn’t respond, and Dick could see he was stewing.  He had learned over the last several  weeks of nearly constantly being in each other’s presence, that sometimes Jason just needed to work things through in his own head before he was ready to express them.  He could snark and quip and banter in the moment like the best of them, but he needed his quiet moments too.  He needed time and space in his own head, to withdraw and think, and if Dick forced him out of his shell too early, Jason would be reactive and angry.  He was so like Bruce in that way.  Dick’s own natural tendency was to fill the empty air with the sound of his own voice, but he had learned to temper himself with Bruce, and so he learned to do so with Jason as well.

“He’s such a fucking asshole, until he’s not,” Jason finally broke the silence.  It seemed he had changed the subject in his head, while Dick _wasn’t_ listening in on his private thoughts, and now he could only be talking about Bruce.

He went with it. “Why’s that?  I mean, he was actually kind of… mild tonight.”  That wasn't quite the right word, but Bruce had been lacking in his usual intensity.

“What I mean is, that first he pulls the creepy stalker shit and spies on us, and I’m willing to bet he hacked our comms too.”  

Dick hadn’t thought of that, but now that Jason said it, he knew he was right.   

Jason went on, “and then he gets all, I don’t know, all trusting suddenly.  What the hell?  He needs to make up his fucking mind.”  Jason looked a little flustered. Clearly Bruce’s words had affected him, and Dick sympathized. Bruce sending mixed emotional signals was par for the course.  

“He stalks all of us, Jay.  It's his way of saying he loves us,” Dick joked.

They were in the bedroom, and Jason had started undressing, disarming the numerous weapons hidden on his person, and taking off his jacket and body armour.  Dick was doing the same, peeling out of his Nightwing suit. It had become their routine for the last several weeks, with the location changing sometimes to Dick’s apartment, but they would usually come home together and crash.  Sometimes they would work off any remaining energy through sex. Sometimes they would be too tired and just go to bed.  It was oddly domestic, and Dick doubted that Jason consciously realized what was happening -- that they had essentially moved in together.  As a couple.

They had only spent a few nights apart, for those inevitable missions that came up, but Jason always made sure Dick was never going solo, that he had backup.  Jason was still having strange dreams.  Nightmares.  And they were getting worse, but he never seemed to remember anything consequential.  Sometimes he would wake up shaking, grasping at Dick to make sure he was okay, pulling him into a desperate embrace.

It scared the hell out of Dick, more so for what it was doing to Jason, than for fear of anything that might happen to himself.  He would do his best to calm Jason, telling him that he wasn't crazy. Jason seemed to fear losing his mind again second only to losing Dick.

“Bruce is just worried.  About what you said about me,” Dick said, stripping out of his tights and rummaging through a pile of clothes.  “He’s worried about you too.  He even asked me to take care of you.”

Jason threw a pair of sweats at his head, the same borrowed pair that Jason had handed him that first night.

“He should have asked me to take care of _you_.  You’re such a pig.  You can’t even do your own laundry,” Jason said in his usual snarky tone, but Dick could still hear the undercurrent of agitation he was trying to hide.

“He told you to stay close to me.”  Dick abandoned the sweats Jason had thrown at him, and instead stepped up to kiss him,  pushing him gently until his back was to the wall.  

“He better not still be hacking our comms,” Jason said, when Dick pulled back.

“Shhh.  You’re thinking too much, Jay.”  Dick helped Jason out of the bottom half of his body armour, pulling down his boxer briefs along the way, and sinking to his knees in front of him.  

Jason was half hard already, and Dick kissed along his hip, stroking Jason fully erect with his hand, before taking him into his mouth.

“See?” Jason breathed out between gasps.  “Dick-face.  The name fits.”

“Shut up.”  Dick said, pulling off momentarily, laughing despite himself.

“Make me,” Jason challenged.

Dick took him up on it, taking Jason in his mouth again and teasing his entrance with his finger.  And sure enough, Jason wasn’t talking anymore, he was breathing too raggedly, fisting a hand in Dick’s hair as he worked Jason into ecstasy.

“Dick, I'm...” Jason moaned a final warning, but Dick was relentless, increasing the pace and working his tongue, swallowing as Jason finally climaxed.

Jason simply leaned against the wall for a few moments, eyes closed, faint tremors still wracking his frame slightly. Dick had pulled back, looking up at Jason with a grin.  He was so damn beautiful when he was open and vulnerable like this, Dick thought.  It made his heart ache just looking at him.

Then suddenly, Jason hooked an arm under his, and practically threw him onto the bed.  His back hit the sheets with a slight bounce, and Jason leaned over him, kissing his mouth before moving down lower.  

“Fair’s fair, Dick-face,” and Jason was sucking him off in the next heartbeat. Dick let his head drop back with a moan, because a blow job from Jason was absolute heaven.  Jason worked his tongue around the tip of his cock, while stroking the rest of his length with his hand.  He pulled back briefly to slick two fingers, pressing into Dick and massaging his prostate.  Jason swallowed him down into his throat, letting out a slight hum, and Dick knew he wouldn’t last long under the assault.  He hoped he had made it half as good for Jason because the level or arousal he could bring out from Dick was simply mind blowing. Dick was bucking his hips slightly now, unable to keep still, but Jason held him down with a palm on his abs, and Dick climaxed into his throat with a pleasured wail.

Jason moved up on the bed so he was level with Dick and kissed him, the taste of themselves in each other’s mouths.  Dick smiled into the kiss, feeling boneless and thoroughly sated.  Jason was disturbingly good at this, and Dick’s mind jumped to his comment earlier, about the cradle having been robbed before Dick had been around, and he felt the pit form in his stomach again.  Given Jason’s background as a street kid, it could only really mean one thing.  

“What is it Dickie? You’ve got that look on your face.  You want to ask me something.”  Dick wasn’t surprised that Jason had figured him out.  He was exceedingly perceptive when he wanted to be.

“It’s nothing.”  Dick wanted to know what had happened to him, but he also didn’t know if he could bear it once he did.  And voicing it could potentially send Jason running away again.  He reached for Jason’s hand and laced their fingers together, as Dick often liked to do when he was comforting himself as much as Jason.  “It’s fine, Jay.  I was just thinking.”

“It’s about what I said earlier, isn’t it?”  Jason was looking him straight in the eye, his gaze intense and demanding honesty.  Damn.  Dick couldn’t get anything by him these days.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

Jason was quiet again, evidently taking him up on the offer, and Dick let it go.  Instead, he pulled Jason close on the too small bed, and was nearly lulled to sleep by his warmth when a faint buzzing woke him up.  His cell phone.

Dick rolled out of bed and fished the buzzing phone out of his pile of clothes.

“Shit, It’s Spyral,” Dick said, answering the call.  “Tiger, what’s going on?” he said into the phone.

Jason watched him silently from the bed, and when Dick hung up, Jason said solemnly, “You’ve got to go, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sorry.  They’ve already sent transport.  It’ll be here in a couple hours.  It should only be a couple nights.  Three tops,” Dick said apologetically.  He didn’t want to leave Jason, but Tiger had stuck with him through thick and thin.  If he needed help, he would go.

“I could go with you?”  Jason was worried, and he wasn’t trying to hide it.  He hadn’t let Dick out of his sight for more than a night at a time.

“No, this is a Spyral mess, and Tiger needs someone he trusts.  I know him, and even if I vouched for you, he’d nix it.”  Dick knew this was headed toward an argument.  Jason was being overprotective, and when he got overprotective he also got overbearing.  He was so like Bruce in so many ways.  He’d have to throw reason and logic at Jason to argue him out of it.  If that didn’t work, he’d have to appeal to his moral obligations to his other crime-fighting tasks to guilt him into staying.

“Besides,” Dick continued, “you were going to take down that child trafficking ring.  You’ve been planning it for the last week, and those kids need saving Jay.  You can’t come with me and just let them get sold.”  That hit home, and Dick could see he had Jason cornered on that one.  “I’ll be careful Jay, I promise.”

Jason pressed his lips together, still not ready to let it go.  He opened his mouth to argue, but Dick headed him off.

“Look Jay, I know you’re worried, but it's been weeks, and we haven’t heard or seen anything from Essence.  You haven’t remembered anything else either.  It’ll be okay.”  Dick tried to sound reassuring, but Jason wasn’t buying it.

“I know it sounds crazy Dick, but I _know_ something’s going to happen, and it's not a matter of _if_ , but _when_ ,” Jason said adamantly.  “It’s… I _am_ remembering more, but it's like another _life_.  There’s these people I keep seeing.  I don’t know who they are, but I trust them, and they’re telling me that something’s going to happen to you.”

“I know, Jay. I believe you.  I do.  But I can’t just stop living my life until we figure out who’s behind this.” Dick was resolute, he could be as stubborn as anyone.  He might even be more stubborn than Jason.  “If someone needs me, I need to go.  I can’t just stop helping people and hide away.  I can't just sit here and do nothing.”

“I know, Dick.  I just….”  Jason was holding his hands in front of himself, unconsciously miming, as if he was holding a box. A box that he wanted to keep Dick in. To keep him safe.

“Just let me do this, Jay. Please. I _need_ to do this.  I’ll have backup.  I won’t be out there alone.”  Dick didn’t think he was being unreasonable.  He really did believe Jason, but he risked his life every day, and what was one more villain wanting to take him down?  There were probably at least half dozen out there gunning for him right this very moment even, so whoever it was that Jason was worried about, he would just have to get in line.  It didn’t change anything.  Dick would still do what he believed was right.

“They can call someone else.  It doesn’t have to be you.  They can call Midnighter.  Anyone.”  Jason wasn’t going to let this go, and Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

“That’s who we need to get out, Jay.”  They were at a standstill.  Dick was going, he wasn’t going to change his mind, but he didn’t want to leave Jason like this.  He climbed back onto the bed, kneeling in front of Jason, and putting his hands on his shoulders.

“Jay, if it's not this, it's going to be something else.  There are just going to be times where we won’t be able to watch each other’s backs.  I’m sorry Jay, but you’d do the same, and you know it.”  He put his hands up to cup his face.  “I love you, Jay.  And I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t important.  I believe you.  I just want you to believe in me too.”

Jason closed his eyes and acquiesced with a slight nod, and Dick leaned in with a soft kiss.  “Thank you.”

Dick pulled away reluctantly and began to pack a bag.  Jason stuffed a tracker into one of the hidden pockets in the lining of his suit, and another into a compartment on his boot.  Dick didn’t protest, and though not fully satisfied it seemed to at least partially reassure Jason.

It would only be a few days, Dick thought, and he would be right back home.   What could go wrong?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the Sandman Overture, it was revealed that the Endless have parents, with their father being Time, and their Mother being Night. They were divorced. And Mother Night was pretty much a cold bitch, who didn’t care much about the universe or her kids.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - full graphic non-con in this chapter. Do not read if that bothers you in any way! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.  
> \-- This is a shortish chapter, posting next one immediately after and will be longer.

~~~~ Sometime recently, Jason dreams ~~~

_Jason was in the palace at the Dreaming again.  Sometimes he was able to show up on his own, without the need for the Corinthian to pull him out of one of his nightmares, and would navigate through the castle on his own to the throne room.  The halls were comforting and familiar at this point.  He’d learned his way around during his time in between, often coming and going between the palace and the land of the Nightmare to see the Corinthian.  They’d been having meetings more often lately as well, and now Jason felt some trepidation as he pushed open the throne room doors, where Death, Dream, and the Corinthian were waiting._

_Death normally greeted him cheerfully, but she had a solemn look on her face this time.  Dream was stoic as usual, and the Corinthian merely nodded.  The energy in the room was oppressive and tense.  The environment of the Dreaming often reflected it’s lord’s changing moods, and though their meetings always had the air of seriousness and concern, this time it was palpably dark._

_“What is it? What’s wrong?”  Jason’s voice broke into the silence of the room like a crack of thunder._

_“There are pictograms, new ones, showing up on the back of the page,” Death replied, holding up the paper so Jason could see._

_Jason looked, and immediately understood the reason for the tension in the room.  He could see the two fallen Endless lying down, with a strange black substance, pouring out of their faces.  And there was another of Dick, naked and bound, lying on some kind of altar before a  dark figure holding a knife._

_“Why is this only showing up now?” Jason asked, slightly panicking. It wasn't clear what was happening to the two Endless in the picture, but it couldn't be good.  And it looked like Dick was going to get knifed while bound and helpless.  “Did something happen?”_

_Jason was perplexed.  The pictures had stayed fixed for years, and they had kept it a secret amongst themselves for the most part.  Death had said it was partially to protect Jason, to prevent the other Endless from simply killing him again if they perceived him as a threat. Dream had also warned that their every action could be part of a self fulfilling prophecy, with the possibility that any move to try and prevent the events from occurring, would instead ensure that they would in fact occur.  They simply couldn't know for sure either way, so they had opted to conceal the page from the other Endless until they had more information, and trusted Destiny that the path laid out would be the least harmful._

_“We have tried to take precautions,” Dream answered. “Delirium is never alone now.  One of us is always with her, usually Destruction.  Desire won’t listen to us. It knows something may happen, but unless we can show something that appeals to it, Desire will do as it pleases.”_

_Jason looked at the picture of Dick again, and his gut clenched.  Was it some kind of sacrifice perhaps?  Whatever it was, he would stop it.  He had just started... a relationship... with Dick -  foretold on Destiny’s page and that he’d been yearning for and dreaming about for years, even if he didn’t consciously know in the waking._

_“This can't happen.”  Anger and and desperation threatened to boil over.  “I’ve listened to you, followed the path for years.  I killed, murdered, and became a monster, because you told me that I could save my family.  That I could save yours, and the entire world.  But this can’t happen.  I won’t let it happen!”  Jason realized he had raised his voice, and the Corinthian tried to calm him by stroking his back._

_“I know, Jason.  Believe me, I know, those are my two siblings right there too,” Death was trying to be reassuring.  “We’re doing everything we can to make sure everyone survives this.”_

_Jason snorted at that.  “Survive?  That’s not what I’m worried about.  This whole thing, it's just so fucked up.  Everything I’ve done.   Whatever’s going to happen... we might survive, but we might not come out whole.”  Jason swallowed, a lump in his throat.  “I certainly haven’t.”_

_Jason looked at the page again, at the very beginning, when he was just a boy.  When he was just a foolish Robin who had sacrificed himself to try and save his mother.  If that boy looked at him now, at what Jason had become, he doubted that he would recognize himself.  He had changed, right down to the very core of his soul.  The damage could never be undone.  Even if Death was confident he would not be judged, he knew that he would carry the weight of his actions in his soul for all eternity._

  


~~~~ Now, Dick ~~~

Dick coughed as he woke up in a haze.  He was lying face down on something hard and cold.  It felt smooth.  Stone, or marble perhaps.  His whole body felt like it had been put through the ringer.   He blinked his eyes blearily.  The light was dim, and slightly flickering.  Candlelight, or some kind of flame.  He took a moment to take stock of himself before trying to roll over.  

He couldn’t move.  Shit.  

His arms were bound to the edge of whatever he was lying on, his legs spreadeagled.  It felt like leather, wrapped tightly around his wrists and arms, and cold chains draped over his body and ankles.  His fingers fumbled around, his gloves were gone.  In fact, from the chill of the air and the feel of the chains around his body, his suit was gone too.  Someone had stripped him down.

Dick took a breath, trying to squelch the panic and remember how he had gotten here.  He had been on his way home.  The mission to find and extract Midnighter from the blacksite had gone well.  He had been bloodied and exhausted, but had fought his way back out alongside Dick.  Near the end, Apollo had shown up and blasted all the baddies to kingdom come.  Apparently, Midnighter had an ass-kicking boyfriend.  Who knew?

But then, he had gone home….  Or at least he had tried to.  He remembered hitching a ride on Spyral transport back to Gotham.  He would have preferred it if Midnighter had simply “doored” him home, but he had been whisked away by Apollo as soon as they had made it back to Spyral HQ.  Seeing the two of them made him miss Jason all the more, and he had tagged onto the first Spyral jet that was heading across the Atlantic.  He had texted Jason he would be home by the next evening.

And then nothing. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten here. Shit and double shit.  Jason was going to be so pissed.

He heard laughter from somewhere behind him.  Male, older, voice gravelly and low.

“Who are you?  What do you want?”  Dick’s voice was raspy and strained.  He swallowed, and his throat hurt like hell, like he had been strangled.

Laughter again, almost like a giggle, and a man in a dark cloak stepped into his view.  “Such a pretty thing.  I can see why he likes you.”

“Who… ?  What are you talking about?”

“Your lover, Jason.  Has he not told you anything, my pretty thing?”  Shit and triple shit.  This was whoever Jason had tried to warn him about.  This is what Jason had been worried for weeks over -- what Jason _knew_ was going to happen and Dick had still left him and walked right into it.  The man was beside him now, trailing his nails lightly up his leg, before stopping at his hip, lightly stroking the curve of his back.  

Dick shuddered at the touch, pulling away, but the chains prevented much movement.  “Who are you?” he repeated.  

“I am Drakar, I am the _Endless of Depravity_ ,” the man uttered, and laughed to himself again.  It was an odd affect.  It reminded him slightly of the way the Joker would punctuate his sentences with his signature laugh.  This man wasn’t trying to be funny though.  He sounded off-kilter enough however, that it was possible he was insane, Dick assessed.  He could see the man’s face now at the edge of his vision.  He was older, with a white beard, his face scarred and vicious.  But it was the way the man was touching him, and the way his expression kept changing on his face - alternating from sadistic glee, to sobered snarl, to something else that Dick didn’t want to acknowledge… he could only describe it as lustful and wanting.  That sent a terrifying sense of panic through him.  The man laughed to himself again, mumbling something under his breath, and the wanton look returned to his face.  Dick could see now the man was clearly mad, and Dick was at his mercy.

“Never heard of you,” Dick responded, trying to buy himself time.  In fact he _had_ heard of him though.  Jason had given him the run down after Essence had left.  Drakar was the man who had led the Untitled, the faction at war with the All-Caste, the organization that had been partly responsible for Jason’s deadly training after he had returned from the dead.  Jason hadn’t mentioned anything about the man being insane though, hadn’t even expected him to be alive.  This might have been an after effect of whatever allowed him to survive a broken neck.  Jason had entertained the idea that it could be Drakar behind his premonition, and had said that he would be deadly and calculating in his quest for revenge.  

“Hmmm,” and the man laughed again.  “Not to worry, my pretty thing, you will know me well by the time I am done with you.”  He moved his hand from Dick’s lower back down to his buttock now, tracing a finger down his cleft, and Dick jerked away as much as he could manage.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”  Dick was struggling in earnest now, trying to find some give in the leather and chains around his arms.  If he could just loosen the wrappings, he could dislocate his thumbs or his shoulder to extract his arm, but it was too tight, and Dick was starting to panic as the man pulled his hand away, moving to pull out a dagger from a scabbard at his waist, his other hand to the sash tied at his cloak.  He was disrobing.

The dark cloak fell to the floor, and Dick glanced at him, trying to assess what he was up against.  The man, despite his age, was large and powerfully built, but there was a strange tension corded through him.  Like he was juiced up on something, like venom, or… Dick could see a faint crackle of energy.  Magic.

Drakar had shed his clothing now, and to his horror, Drakar began to stroke himself with his free hand, laughing and muttering quietly to himself.  Dick renewed his struggles and had almost wrested a strap of leather loose from his wrist, when the man stopped his abhorrent masturbation and raised his hand.  A glow of energy released and Dick felt a heavy weight settle on his limbs, restraining his movement.  Dick gasped as he felt pressure building against his back, making it difficult to breathe.

Drakar trailed the dagger along his side, clinking slightly as he hit a chain.  “My pretty thing, you are the first to taste the power of a new god.  You will be the first to be _depraved_.”  Dick cringed at his low laughter.  Drakar was now directly behind him, tickling the sole of his foot with the dagger.

“I will make you mine, and christen you with the blood of your lover.”  Suddenly, he plunged the dagger into the sole of his foot, and Dick struggled to suppress a cry, trying to work through the pain, to breathe.  And then Drakar repeated the act, withdrawing the dagger from his foot with a sickening twist, and plunging it into the other.  Dick couldn’t help the cry that escaped his throat this time, and he struggled to suck in a full breath.  He could feel Drakar climbing up behind him now, nudging open his thighs, the bloody dagger tracing up his ribs and up his spine, grazing the back of his neck.  A hot breath in his ear, mumbling something that Dick couldn’t make out.  Gibberish.  And that low manic laughter.  Dick was now in full panic.

“Get the fuck off me!  Get off!”  Dick screamed and bucked as best he could, but the magic that was holding him down held fast.  “No.  Don’t!”  He could feel the weight of Drakar’s chest on his back, could feel his hands now moving lower, parting his ass.  Something hot and hard pressing against his thighs, fingers slick with his own blood, moistening his entrance.  And then Drakar positioned the tip of his cock and forced himself in with a hard thrust.  Dick screamed.  

“No, stop!”  Dick gulped for air, trying to stop himself from sobbing, but Drakar pushed forward again, seating himself inside Dick, and began to move.  His thrusts were were sharp and brutal, forcing Dick open again and again relentlessly.  Drakar continued his assault, increasing the pace and force behind his movements.  He bent forward over Dick, biting the curve between his neck and shoulder, breaking the skin and lapping at his blood.

Then, without breaking the rhythm of his hips, Drakar reared back, pulling the chains around his neck, and tightened them until Dick couldn’t breathe.  

Strangling, Dick began to black out, the agony of what was happening to him starting to cloud over, until suddenly, with a final jerk of his hips, Drakar climaxed.  He released the chains, and Dick gulped in air through the burning pain of his throat and chest.  His face was wet with tears, his entire body shaking.

“Welcome to my realm, my pretty thing.”  Drakar laughed again, and Dick finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Yikes, I was kind of nervous posting this chapter. Poor Dick. Yeah, that was brutal, but Drakar is now fully deranged with a combination of Delirium’s madness and Desire’s lust.  
> \--- In case you don’t know, originally from the Wildstorm Universe, Midnighter was a recurring character in the Grayson series. I loved their dynamic. It was so cool. They would have been an awesome couple too. Eventually Midnighter got his own series and got back together with Apollo. They were originally conceived I think, as a sort of gay Batman/Superman duo. Anyway, the Midnighter/Apollo mini series that recently concluded was pretty awesome too.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like the Corinthian. Or at least appreciate how fucked up his relationship is with Jason.

~~~~ Now, Jason ~

Jason had tried to keep himself busy after Dick had departed.  As Dick had so aptly pointed out, he had been planning to take out a sex trafficking ring for over a week, with the traffickers lining up several buyers to attend an auction the second night of Dick’s absence.  It was also the first time that they would have all the kids being sold in a single place.  The traffickers had secreted them in various locations throughout Gotham and neighboring cities.  While it was risky for the traffickers, the auction demanded that the goods and cash be exchanged immediately, so they were left will little choice.  It was fortunate for the Red Hood, because it meant he could hit them all at once and ensure that none of the victims were killed to hide the identities of their captors should they be tipped off during the bust.

He had originally planned the sting for two people, Red Hood and Nightwing, but with Dick’s sudden departure, Jason had called in Red Robin to be his second.  

It had gone off mostly without a hitch.  Tim had taken over setting up the appropriate cameras and recording devices to gather evidence, and Jason secured the victims before they both took down the traffickers.  Nightwing had gotten him to agree not to kill, and now Tim was holding him to the same bargain.

The bust was underway, and most of the traffickers had already been taken down.  Tim was rounding up the buyers that had tried to flee, and Jason had just finished blowing out a few kneecaps when he saw a man squirrel away toward the room that held the victims.  Jason ran after him, bursting into the room with his guns ready to fire.

The man was there.  He looked like some kind of sleazy businessman, large and paunchy with white hair, dragging at a young boy, apparently still trying to make good on his purchase.  But there was something about the scene that stopped Jason dead in his tracks.  His mind flashed back to something  _ distant _ .  A memory.  Or was it a dream?  A man with pale hair, but instead of the flubbed figure, he was trim and muscular, holding down a boy that looked like Jason when he was younger.  Holding him down as he raped him.

The memory hit him like a punch in the gut, and he hesitated for a moment.  Enough time for the man to fumble in his jacket for a gun and raise it toward Jason’s chest.  

Just then, a birdarang shimmed through the air, knocking the gun from the man’s hand as it went off.  Red Robin was on him in an instant, knocking him out and zip tying him.  The boy the man had grabbed had scrambled away, huddled with several other kids on the far side of the room.

“Hood, what happened?”  

Jason didn’t answer, and Tim hauled the man out of the room.  He was surprisingly strong for someone of such slim stature, Jason thought absently.  His mind was oddly detached from the situation, and Jason still hadn't budged when Tim returned a moment later.  He was staring at the kids huddled in the corner.  His arms were crossed, and outwardly he may have just looked pissed, but his heart was still racing and his stomach was in knots.   

“Come on, get clear of the area.  I’ll wait for the police.”

The blair of sirens could already be heard in the distance, and Tim gave Jason a shove toward the exit.  Jason snapped out of his daze and took off toward their rendezvous point, climbing up to the roof of a building a few blocks away.

Once Jason reached the top, he snapped off his helmet and promptly vomited on the floor.  He felt dizzy, his stomach still dry heaving, as he thought back to the scene. It wasn’t like he hadn't dealt with sex traffickers and child abusers before.  He had done plenty of gigs just like this. If he was triggered, he usually acted out in a fit of rage, which was one of the reasons he had planned to have Nightwing as a second.  But he had never lost his shit and frozen like that.  

Except, it wasn’t just the situation, it was the image of the man with the pale hair he couldn't get out of his head.  It was like he knew him, but he couldn’t pinpoint where. It could have been any one of his numerous johns from the past.  

Or it was from one of his fucking nightmares. 

He sat back on the roof, breathing in the cold night air and just looked out at the lights of the night skyline.  He remembered now.  A man with pale hair and dark sunglasses had appeared in his dreams.  The details were still fuzzy, but an odd mix of emotion welled up inside him that he couldn’t make sense of. It was as if he missed him and loathed him at the same time.

“Hood?”  Tim had landed on the roof and was approaching him slowly.  “Are you okay?”

Jason pulled himself up and snapped on his helmet again. He knew Tim probably hadn’t missed the mess he had made on the floor.  Probably didn’t miss that his hands were still shaking either.  That kid didn't miss anything, but he didn't bring it up. 

“I’m fine,” was all Jason said. He knew Tim would see right through it, but he didn't exactly want to admit he might be having a psychotic breakdown. He wished Dick was here. He always had a way of making Jason feel like everything really was going to be okay. He would tell Jason that he wasn’t going crazy and keep him grounded. 

“You spaced out while someone pulled a gun on you. Not my definition of fine.”  Tim was blunt and direct as ever, but somehow he managed to say it without sounding like a prick. “Something hasn’t been right with you for weeks.  What's going on?  Is it something to do with Dick?  When does he get back?”

Jason pulled out his phone, checking for any messages from Dick. He had gotten a text earlier that he might be home by the next evening. All Jason had to do was go home and wait.  He could manage a few more hours without falling apart couldn't he?

“Soon, I think. I just need to….”  he was going to say sleep, but that was odd. It was only about one in the morning.  Still early by Bat standards. He wasn't tired, but he had a sudden urge to be sleeping.  “I just need to burn off some steam,” he said instead. Staying out a little longer would probably help clear his head.  Maybe he was just overly worried about Dick. He said he would be home in a few hours, so Jason needed to do something to keep himself occupied until then. 

“Okay.  You want to do a round of patrol?  We could check out the South side?”  Apparently Tim didn’t want to leave Jason alone just yet, and Jason found he appreciated the company.

They patrolled the next couple hours together.  Jason was unusually quiet, his normal tendency to bark sarcastic taunts and quips suppressed by his agitation.  They took down a few muggers and stopped a few carjackings, only encountering small time thugs at best.  Tim spoke only sparingly, taking his cues from Jason, but at the end of the patrol it seemed he wouldn’t let what happened go after all.

“Hood, what happened tonight?  Your freak out was potentially dangerous.  You could have gotten shot, or one of the kids could have gotten shot.”  _  Or your partner could have gotten shot _ , he didn’t need to say, Jason thought.  

Jason sighed.  Tim deserved an explanation, but he didn’t want to sound like he was crazy.  His nerves were a little shot however, and he found himself telling more of the truth than he would have liked.  “I’m worried about Dick.  I’ve been having…  _ premonitions _ .  I didn’t want Dick to go on his fucking mission, but he went anyway.”

Tim nodded, and Jason continued.  “And then tonight, something about that douchebag reminded me of someone I’d seen.  In a  _ dream _ .”  Jason stopped at that.  He wouldn’t put into words the scene he remembered or the confusing mix of emotion that accompanied it.

“Have you talked to anyone about this?  It could be some sort of psychic attack.” Tim was assessing, turning over the possibilities in his mind.

“I’ve talked to Dick.  I’ve had some kind of confirmation from a former associate of mine, but I haven’t been able to figure anything else out.”

“I’m going to run a query at the cave.  Give me descriptions.  Anything you can remember.”  Of course Tim was approaching this analytically, like a detective.  Jason felt a little foolish for not thinking of it early, but he had been too busy freaking out.  The emotions that came with the images that he could remember were visceral and hyperreal.  It was all he could do sometimes to just keep himself from falling apart, and Dick was usually there to help him.  

“Go get some rest.  I’ll come by later.  Hopefully Dick will be back by then.”  Tim departed, and Jason made his way back to his apartment.  He climbed into the window with a feeling of disappointment.  After so many weeks of sharing a space with Dick, it had felt disturbingly quiet the last few days alone. 

He changed out of his body armour and took a quick shower, but afterwards he found he was reluctant to get in bed.  The thought of more disturbing nightmares and confusing premonitions left him feeling uneasy.  The thought of waking up alone made him feel sick.  He wanted Dick home, to make sure he was okay.  Jason mentally kicked himself for being so pathetic.  Christ,  _ Dick was ruining him _ , Jason thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret what they had started together.  

The feeling of unease persisted, and he checked his phone for any new messages from Dick.  Nothing.  He was too agitated to sleep now, so instead, he made himself a cup of coffee.  He sat down at his small kitchen table and watched the dawn overtake the dilapidated cityscape of Crime Alley.

The sun had climbed high enough to peek over some of the taller buildings in his view, when he heard a scratching at the door.  He was immediately suspicious, approaching the door with guns ready.  Flipping on the security camera to the entryway, he was surprised to see a scruffy looking dog standing outside his door.  He watched as it scratched at the door again, panting and pacing.  He opened the door and the dog rushed in.

“Jason, something’s happened!  She’s gone and I can’t find her!  You need to call them!”  Holy shit, the dog was talking!

“What the hell?”  Jason was flabbergasted.  The talking dog was talking nonsense.  “Who are you?  Who’s gone?”

“Draw the sigils, that might get them to come to you.  I can’t do it.  I tried, but I have paws and it didn’t work.  Something’s happened to her.  I just know it!”

“Who?  Tell me who the fuck is gone? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”  And then something clicked in his memory.  The dog was familiar, and his mind flew back to several weeks ago.  It was almost a few months at this point, but he had seen the dog, huddled next to that strange girl he had seen on the street.  That girl who had recognized him.

“You remember now right?” The dog continued.  “Delirium, she’s gone.  She just disappeared.  I didn’t know where to go, but she remembered you, and I could smell the Endless on you.  You   _ know _ .”

There was a loud banging suddenly at the door and Jason nearly jumped out of his skin.  The dog perked its ears, quizzical.  “Get back,” he said to the dog, and drew his guns again.  He checked the camera and took in a breath, startled.  After the talking dog, he didn’t think he could be more shocked, but it was the man with the pale hair.  The one from his dreams.  Fuck.

Jason briefly wondered if he had finally lost it and gone full batshit crazy.  He backed away from the door slowly, guns drawn.  Crazy or not, there was someone at his door, and whatever he wanted Jason didn’t think it was good.  His suspicions were confirmed when suddenly the door burst open with a loud crack.  The man had kicked open the door.

Jason had his guns drawn already, “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but take one step closer and I blow off your head!”  Shit.  Jason was standing out in the open of his living room, and he was completely vulnerable without his body armour.  The man was exactly as Jason remembered from his dream, large and powerfully built.  He could probably snap Jason’s neck if he got close enough.  There was something strapped to his back as well.  It looked like some sort of sword.  

“Jason, that’s no way to greet an old friend.”  The man was smiling, but it was devious.  Creepy.  “I guess you still don’t remember, but I’m here to fix that.”  

The man was on him in an instant.  Jason fired a few shots into his chest, but it didn’t seem to phase him.  He was tackled to the ground, and Jason tried to roll away.  The man caught his leg however and dragged him back, pinning him to the floor.

“Just like old times,” he said, almost mirthfully.  “Nighty night, Jason,” and the man struck him.  Everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And then he was suddenly  _ aware _ .  Jason was in the palace in the Dreaming, and Death and Dream were standing before him.

“What the fuck?”  The memories rushed in, and Jason suddenly remembered everything.  “Why is C in the waking?  What happened?”

“I’m sorry, Jason,” Dream replied, “but your conscious mind has been avoiding the Dreaming.   _ It  _ has finally happened, and we needed to speak right away.  Come, we must show you something.”  

Dream led them out of the room, and toward what Jason recognized as his gallery where he kept the sigils of his siblings.  As Jason approached, Jason could see there was something terribly wrong.  A black mass was spreading across several of the sigils and the wall.  It was slightly raised, and reminded Jason of mold.

“Don’t get too close Jason, we’ve put up a ward, but it won’t work if you break it,” Death put an arm up to stop him.  She was calm, but her face was pinched with worry.  “It starts here, at Delirium, and then it spread to Desire.  Despair went to go find them in the mortal realm, and she didn’t come back.  Her sigil is infected now too.”

An infection.  That’s what it looked like to Jason.  It reminded him of bacterial cultures, except whatever this was wasn’t contained in a neat dish.  It threatened to spread into Dream’s realm, and he doubted the wards would hold forever.

“What do we do?  What about Dick?  He hasn’t come back yet.  Can you find him?”  An intense feeling of foreboding was overtaking him.  He already knew the answer, and it made him sick to the stomach.

Dream put a hand to his head for a moment, and shook his head.  “I have tried to find him in the Dreaming.  I have been keeping an eye on him these last few weeks.  His dreams have been normal, but whatever this is has cut him off from the Dreaming.  I’m sorry Jason.  He has been taken.”

“So what are we waiting for?  Let’s go.  You must have some idea where they are!”  Jason was frantic with worry.  He needed to stop this and get Dick back as soon as possible.

“No.  Only  _ you  _ can go,” Dream pronounced.  “They have already captured three of the Endless.  We cannot risk any more of us going into the mortal realm.  However, I have sent the Corinthian to help you.  He has the power to destroy gods, and I have instructed him to anoint you with wards.  Our brother will also offer you some of his power.”

A large man with red hair stepped up behind him.  Destruction, their long-lost brother.

“The Corinthian will give you a blade of my own making,” the man said.  “I have put as much into it as I can, without connecting it to my former realm.  Any direct connection to the Endless could allow this infection to spread.”

“We have been trying to get you to remember more in the waking, but your mind is resisting.”  Dream reached out and touched his forehead.  “You have put up barriers to protect yourself, Jason.  If I tear them down you may lose your sanity.  However, given the situation, I can apply more force to weaken them.”

Jason nodded.  “Do it.  I need to remember enough that I won’t fight the Corinthian.”  

“As to the location, your ally will come to you soon.  Now go.  You must make haste.”  Dream touched the green stone he wore at his breast, and turned to Jason again, touching his forehead.  

“Trust the Corinthian,” Dream said and  _ pushed _ .  Suddenly he was falling into blackness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And then Jason was awake.  His head felt fuzzy, but he had a vivid image of the white-haired man with dark eyes in his mind.   _ Trust the Corinthian. _  The voiced echoed in his mind.

“Ugh,” his head ached something fierce, and he tried to turn, only to realize he was restrained.  Or rather, someone was holding him.  Bridal style.  Jason wasn’t small by any description, so whoever was holding him had to be massively large and strong. His face was tucked close to someone’s chest, and it felt achingly familiar.  He opened his eyes and looked up into what should have been eyes, but instead he stared into two empty maws lined with teeth.

“Fuck!”  Jason jerked in his grasp, and he belatedly realized he could hear shouting.  

“Final warning.  Put. Him. Down!”

“Jason, can you hear me!  Jason, wake up!”

It was Bruce.  And Tim.  And even Damian.  Dressed in full bat gear.  And they were in his apartment.  He heard barking, and it was the dog.  The talking dog.  And the person holding him, it was the Corinthian.  

He remembered now.  

Fuck.  He remembered he and the Corinthian were friends.

“C?  Shit.  Put me down!”  Jason pushed at his chest, and the Corinthian dropped him.  Jason landed on his ass at his feet, and realized suddenly he was naked.  There were strange symbols painted all over his body, in some sort of flaky dark paint.  It looked like… blood?

“Jason, get away from him!”  Something exploded over his head.  A Batarang.  Fuck, the bats were attacking.  The Corinthian stepped over him.  He had taken a batarang in the face and he was pissed.

“Stop!  Stop it, C.  Don’t kill them,” Jason screamed, grabbing on to his leg as he passed.  “Stop fucking throwing shit!  Batman, stand down!  Stand the fuck down!”

Jason scrambled up, putting himself between the Bats and the Corinthian.  The Corinthian stopped advancing, stood there behind Jason and crossed his arms.

“I was looking forward to killing your family,” he said, that hideous grin on all three of his mouths.

“No.  Don’t you fucking dare,” Jason was panting, feeling unsteady.  He dropped to one knee, unable to balance himself, but held a hand up to keep the bats from approaching.  “Just back up ok?  You’re scaring the shit out of everybody.”  The Corinthian quirked an eyebrow but did as he was told.

Tim was at his side immediately, draping a cape over his shoulders and pulling him away.  Bruce placed himself between them and the Corinthian, still in battle stance.  The Corinthian however, had relaxed his stance and shrugged.  His face had knit itself from where the batarang had hit him, and he simply moved to the side and sat on Jason’s couch.

Bruce was still wary, his eyes not moving from the Corinthian.  “Jason, are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.  He’s not going to do anything.  He’s not here to hurt me.  I trust him,” Jason found himself saying.  It was out of his mouth before he even processed it, and then found himself confused.  He was drawing a blank on exactly how he knew him, but everything about the Corinthian felt familiar.

“That’s not what you said, Todd!  You said he was dangerous, to stay away from him!”  It was Damian, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“What?  When did I say that?”  Jason was surprised at the outburst, and from the look on the other’s faces, he wasn’t the only one.

Damian looked perplexed.  “I don’t know.  I just know!”

Shit.  The dreams.  Something about the dreams.  He did have a faint tickle of a memory of him and Damian discussing the Corinthian, but it felt like so long ago.  It was like everything was behind a closed door, threatening to burst out, but Jason was too afraid to open it.

“Jason,” the Corinthian interjected, “stop fighting it.  Time’s a-wastin’.  Just let yourself remember.”

Jason closed his eyes, still huddled on the floor, clutching the cape around his shoulders.  He could feel something pushing against the back of his mind, and he imagined himself opening himself to it.  Immediately, a flood of images assaulted him, a searing white hot pain behind his eyes.  He clutched his head and screamed.

“What did you do?” Batman was yelling at the Corinthian again.

“Jason!  Jason, look at me!  Breathe, Jason!”  Tim was in his face, holding his head and looking at him intensely.  He was still wearing his domino, but Jason could see the wide panic in his eyes.  He followed Tim’s command, and tried to steady his breathing.  

“Stop it.  Whatever you’re doing,” Bruce said angrily.  He was about to attack again, Jason could see, and he realized he needed to pull it together.  He was the only one who could sort this out, and if he didn’t do it quickly it was going to devolve into an all out fight between the Corinthian and the Bats.  

“Batman, I’m okay!” Jason managed to gasp.  He tried to move to put himself between them to keep Bruce from reacting, but Tim was holding him back.  

“I just… I’m remembering.”  Jason gathered himself enough to stand, still clutching the cape and leaning heavily on Tim.  Jason needed to start answering questions.  He could tell Bruce was going to start grilling the Corinthian, and that wasn’t going to end well.  

“Finally,” it was the dog this time.  “Jason, what did Dream say?  What happened to Delirium?”

“Is that dog talking?  Someone else tell me they also see the dog talking.”  It was Damian.

“I see it too.  And that guy over there has mouths for eyes.”  It was Tim.

“What do you want with Jason?”  Bruce this time.

Everyone was talking at once, and Jason couldn’t focus.  He needed to think.

“Everyone. Just shut up!”  Jason finally shouted.  Everyone quieted, and Jason put a hand to his head again.  The jumble of images in his mind were a mess, but one thing came through clearly.  He needed to save Dick.  

“Dick is in trouble,” Jason finally blurted out.  And the Endless.  He needed to explain about the Endless.  “Some gods or something, are involved.  We need to get them out too.  That’s why he’s here,” he said, pointing at the Corinthian.  

“And who is he exactly?”  Bruce growled out.

“This is the Corinthian. He… uh,” Jason stumbled on his explanation.

“I serve the Lord Dreaming,” the Corinthian clarified.

Bruce glared, but didn’t say anything, and Jason continued.  “We need to find Dick. Tim, I put extra trackers in Dick’s suit.  See if you can ping them.  And see if you can get in touch with Spyral, find out where his last location was.”  

Jason turned to the Corinthian again, “C, what else do you know?  I’m still fuzzy on the details here.”

“We need to prepare for battle.  An ally will come soon with more information, but other than that we’re mostly on our own.  This is for you.”   The Corinthian unstrapped the scabbard at his back and tossed it at Jason. 

Jason inspected it briefly. It seemed like a plain and understated blade.  Thin, like a katana, but it seemed to hum with some kind of energy.

“I also need to finish the wards,” the Corinthian went on.  “The boss insisted.”  He waved a hand indicating Jason’s general person, and Jason pulled the cape aside slightly and looked down at himself.  There were symbols extending all the way down the length of his body, as well as his arms and hands.  It did indeed appear to be drawn in blood, but as far as he could tell it wasn’t his.  He could also see where the blood had been scraped off that the skin underneath was stained. The wards decorated his entire left side, but the right side stopped at his ribs.  

“Your  _ dad  _ here interrupted me,” he said with a smirk.

Well that explained why he was naked.  And it explained why he woke up to the bat family and the Corinthian nearly tearing each other apart.  He could imagine what that must have looked like if Bruce and the others had burst in on that.  

“Okay, you can finish --”

“No,” Bruce interrupted.  “Jason, a word.  In private.”  Bruce was glaring at the Corinthian, his jaw set in a hard line.

The Corinthian was grinning back a little too widely, the maws of his eyes parted slightly.  Jason recognized that look.  The memories were becoming clearer, and he knew it meant the Corinthian was playing at something.  And it was never good when the Corinthian played.  

Jason looked back and forth between him and Bruce.  There was an odd interplay between them, and the others were strangely quiet.  The Corinthian was taunting, and Bruce was being protective, which wasn’t unusual, but something had set him off.

“What is it?  What did you do?” Jason said to the Corinthian, a feeling of dread tightening in his throat.  

“Oh nothing.”  He leaned back on the couch, spreading his arms across the back, and opened his legs somewhat obscenely.  “I just told him I’ve been fucking you since you were a kid.”

Shit.  And he thought this clusterfuck couldn’t get any worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- I kind of really like how this chapter goes, because its such a clusterfuck. Next chapter is along the same lines. Yay! I love family drama!  
> \--- Destruction is the one sibling of the Endless who abandoned his duties. He just kind of wanders around and does whatever he wants I guess. The dog Barnabas used to belong to him, but he gave him to Delirium to take care of her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say again how much I have appreciated people's comments and kudos? Thanks a million!

~~~~ Now, Bruce ~~~

The events leading up to the family crashing into Jason’s apartment were far from a coincidence.  Everyone at Wayne Manor had seemingly had a similar nightmare, and awoken suddenly to run down to the bat cave.  

Tim had opted to stay at the manor that night because he had been at the cave when Bruce and Damian returned from the night's patrol.  Tim had left an analysis to run overnight based on Jason's descriptions, cross referencing them with psychic events.  There were still a few archives that he had not yet incorporated into his own network, and it was an angle Bruce hadn’t considered when Jason had brought up his hunch that something would happen to Dick. His original search based on a connection to R’as Al’Ghul hadn't turned up anything. 

They had all gone to bed shortly after, only to be woken several hours later by some sort of nightmare.  Bruce couldn’t remember any details, but he woke with an overwhelming feeling of urgency to see Jason.  Something had felt incredibly  _ wrong _ , and after Jason had failed to pick up his calls, he had rushed out into the hall toward the cave, only to be joined by Tim and Damian.

“Did you--?”

“You too?”

His two youngest said at once.  Bruce had replied with a quick “Yes” before they sprinted down together into the cave.

Alfred was already there, trying to raise Jason on his comms to no success.

Bruce had then insisted that Tim hack Jason’s alarms.  Tim had previously been reluctant to allow Bruce to invade Jason’s privacy, but judging by the look on his face, he had woken with the same frantic feeling of worry as himself.

It only took a few moments for Tim to confirm their suspicions.  Jason’s front alarm had been tripped hours ago, and decibel meters indicated shots had been fired.  

They had taken a bat plane and made it to the apartment in record time.  Bruce ran the thermal scanner as they approached, and they indicated what looked to be the intruder crouched over Jason's prone form.  Oddly enough, a dog seemed to be hovering nearby as well.

Bruce had expected to find some sort of assassin upon crashing through the window, but what they encountered was a monster with two sets of gaping jaws in place of eyes. There were clear signs of a struggle, Jason's clothing lay in torn shreds thrown aside, and the monster appeared to be performing some kind of ritual judging by the symbols he had painted onto Jason.  The methodical presentation had thoughts of serial killer profiles flashing through Bruce's mind. 

The monster was large and well muscled, and merely smiled at them with its horrific mouths as they made their entrance.  He sat kneeling between Jason’s legs with some kind of pen in one hand that he quickly tucked away, exchanging it for a long knife.  

“How nice of the family to join the party,” the monster had teased.

“Get away from him,” Bruce snarled.  He didn’t like the way the monster had his free hand on Jason, touching his bare chest in a faint stroking motion, his other hand trailing the knife along his abdomen.

“What, this?”  He trailed his hand down to Jason’s groin.  “He won’t mind.  He’s used to it.  Who do you think taught him to fuck properly?”

Something in Bruce snapped and he charged, sending a batarang to knock the knife out of the monster’s hand.  The monster was fast however, and he grabbed Jason and rolled out of the way, coming to a halt and standing, holding Jason at his chest.  

Bruce stopped short.  Upright and at his full height, he could gauge the monster and determine what he was up against.  It had to have meta-level strength if it could pick Jason up so easily.  It had Jason too close however, and Bruce would need to be calculating in his next attack, or Jason could get hurt.

“Heh, he’s a lot heavier than I remember.”  The monster laughed.  “He was kind of scrawny when he was a kid.  A lot easier to hold down and fuck too.”

“Corinthian, stop this now!”  It was the dog, it had jumped up and was pawing at the monster.  Bruce had almost forgotten about it, but was that dog talking?  

“Shut up,” the Corinthian snapped and kicked the dog out of the way.

“Final warning.  Put. Him. Down!”  Bruce shouted, and it had devolved from there.  Jason had woken up and  _ defended  _ the thing, putting himself between them, even though he was literally falling over.  It was obvious that they knew each other well somehow.  Jason was acting too familiar, too trusting, even turning his back to the monster so he could face Bruce and the rest of the bats.  

Bruce hoped to god what the monster had said wasn’t true, but then the monster had said, “I just told him I’ve been fucking you since you were a kid.”

Bruce thought he had met his share of monsters throughout his time as Batman, but the Corinthian was bringing a new level of horror to Bruce’s reality. 

The stricken look that flashed across Jason’s face at the Corinthian’s words was all Bruce needed to know. The fury that overtook him was blinding, and he was lunging to strike the sick grin off the monster’s face, but Jason was suddenly in between them again.

“Batman!  Bruce!  Stop!”  Bruce pulled back, but not before Jason had taken the brunt of a backhand nearly full in the face.  Jason had blocked unsuccessfully at the last moment, and the force was enough to knock him to the ground.

“You’re defending him?”  Bruce was seething. Somewhere in the back of his mind he  _ knew _ he shouldn't be taking this out on Jason, but he couldn’t help but be angry at the way Jason had interacted with the monster with such easy familiarity.  If what that  _ thing  _ said was true, he couldn’t understand why Jason was being so complacent. 

“Jason!  Jesus, B, what the hell?”  Tim was trying to help Jason up, but Jason shrugged him off angrily, pulling himself up on his own and stalking off toward the bedroom.  He threw the cape he had draped across his shoulders at Bruce as he passed. It was Batman's cape, and he seemed to rather be naked than accept the protection it offered.

“What are you doing? Go fix this!”  Tim hissed angrily at him.  

“I’m not leaving the two of you with that thing,” Bruce retorted, pointing at the Corinthian. 

“Don’t mind me.  Go take care of your boy.  Unless you want me to do it?”  The Corinthian looked disgustingly gleeful.  He sat watching the exchange with his horrible eyes, still reclined on the couch.

“We’ve got this contained,” Tim said, ignoring him and trying to draw Bruce’s attention.  He seemed to be the only one who was behaving calm and rationally. Damian stood beside him, scowling at the Corinthian, turning over something in his head, but he remained oddly silent.  

“You need to get Jason focused,” Tim added. “So we can figure out what the hell is going on.  He’s just in the other room.  Get his head together and bring him back.”

Tim was right. Of course he was right.  Jason seemingly had the pieces to the puzzle, and if Dick was in trouble, they needed to stop fighting amongst themselves and work together to find him. 

Bruce turned reluctantly, making sure that Tim was alert and ready for any potential attack before taking the last few steps to stand in the doorway of Jason's bedroom.

Jason had donned a pair of boxers and a sleeveless undershirt, and he could see the odd symbols still covering his body.  He sat on the bed with his face in his hands, not looking up, though he couldn't have missed Bruce’s presence in the doorway. 

“I shouldn't have hit you,” Bruce finally said after too long an awkward pause.

Jason sucked in a breath and held it before letting out a long sigh. He still didn't look up. Didn’t say anything.

“I just don’t understand.  Is he holding something over you?  Is he forcing you...?”  Bruce questioned, trying to keep his voice even.  

Finally Jason dropped his hands.  The side of his face was slightly darkening from where Bruce had struck him, and guilt immediately clawed at him, forming an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. 

Jason still didn't look at him, he was working through a breathing exercise, and so Bruce waited.

“He’s not forcing me,” Jason said finally, but still not meeting his eye.  “It ended a while ago.  And he never  _ forced _ me.  At least not like you’re thinking.”  

Bruce was highly doubtful of that.  Assent didn’t necessarily mean consent, not when there was manipulation and subtle forms of coercion involved, and especially not if Jason had just been a boy.  Given Jason’s history of being abused, it wouldn’t be surprising if the lines of consent were difficult for him to decipher.

“But this happened when you were a child?”   _ When you were Robin, _ Bruce was afraid to say.  

Jason seemed to understand his meaning, finally looking Bruce in the eye.  “This isn’t something you could have prevented.  This happened when I died.”  

Bruce knew that wasn’t true.  He could have prevented it if he hadn’t let Jason die in the first place, if only he had tried harder to get there in time.  If he’d been there for Jason in the ways he should have, and then he wouldn’t have had to entangle himself with whatever this was.

“This hardly makes sense to me either,” Jason went on, “but it's like I had a whole second life after I died.   _ Still  _ have a whole second life, and I didn’t remember it until just now.”

“And it involves some sort of gods?  Can you trust them?  Can you trust that  _ thing  _ to help us find Dick?”  The thought of the Corinthian anywhere near Jason raised his hackles.  And whatever these gods were, they had a lot to answer for if they were responsible for putting Jason into that monster’s clutches.  And if they were responsible for whatever had happened to Dick.

“I know what this looks like, but you don’t understand what he  _ is _ ,” Jason said defensively, and Bruce felt his anger pique again.  Whatever that thing was, it had an unnatural hold over Jason, so much that Jason seemed to be blind to what the monster had done to him.  And to what it was  _ still  _ doing to him.

“Whatever you’re thinking, it's probably exactly that.”  Jason was looking at him knowingly.  “That what happened between me and the Corinthian was the most fucked up thing ever.  Because it absolutely fucking was.  And still is.  I can see that, but it doesn’t change anything.  You have to trust me when I say we can trust him to help us find Dick.”

Jason stood up, and leveled himself with Bruce.  He had grown so much since his Robin days, it was hard to believe he was the same boy that had died that night at the hands of the Joker.  But the barely controlled anger, the hard instinct to fight for survival, combined with the willingness to sacrifice himself to do what he thought was right -- that hadn’t changed.  That was the Jason that he knew.

“I made some fucked up deal that I can’t really remember,” Jason said with resolve, “but I  _ know  _ I made it for a reason.  Whatever threatens the Endless, it threatens all of us.  The Corinthian is literally a fucking nightmare, but he’s  _ loyal _ .  He’ll help us.”

“Fine,” Bruce said after a pause, “but I don’t like it.”  In fact, he hated it.  The fact that Jason wanted them to work alongside a monster who  _ raped _ him was disgusting.  But it was what Jason needed him to do in order to find Dick.  Beneath the outward resolve and confidence, he could tell Jason was barely keeping it together. He had crossed his arms to hide the fact that his hands were still shaking, and had asked Bruce to simply trust him.  If Bruce said no, it wouldn't just disrupt their chances of figuring out how to find Dick, it could destroy the fragile foundations of trust they had rebuilt recently.

He swallowed his rage and growled out, “I’ll trust your judgement for now, but I don’t trust  _ him _ .”

“Okay, I can work with that.”  Jason looked relieved in a brief unguarded moment, and made toward the living room to the others.   “Let’s go find Dick.”

Bruce wasn't quite finished however, and caught Jason’s arm as he passed.  “The Corinthian will finish these wards where I can see him.”

Jason nodded solemnly, and continued out. 

 

 

~~~~ Jason’s POV ~~~

They returned to the living area, and Jason could see the other two boys were still in one piece.  The Corinthian was still reclined on the couch, and Tim was grilling him about something.  Damian was inspecting the blade the Corinthian had brought.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the Corinthian said, but Damian ignored him.  He tested the blade with a quick slash in the air.

A ball of fire erupted and exploded against a chair Damian had been facing.  

“Shit, give me that!” Jason grabbed the blade from Damian, sheathing it in its scabbard.  Damian simply shrugged and Jason turned to Tim, “did you find anything on Dick?”

“No.  Spyral lost track of the jet he was on somewhere over the Atlantic,” Tim said with concern.  “They’re searching, but I got a ping from his tracker somewhere over central Asia.  I’m running some algorithms to try and pinpoint it now, but it's over an area of a hundred thousand kilometers, and I don’t know if he’s been moved since then.”

Jason nodded and turned to the Corinthian, “C, this ally that’s coming, when are they going to get here?  Is it Essence?  Does this have to do with the League of Assassins? Or Drakar?”  

The Corinthian sat up and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked at Jason seriously.  “Yes, your ally, Essence, briefly entered the Dreaming after encountering your enemy, Drakar.  We had our suspicions, but she was able to confirm that he now wields the power of a remnant of Night.  He may have had it since he originally found the Well of Sins, but has only recently been able to access its power.”

Essence was powerful, the extent to which Jason was unsure of ever since she had taken control of the Well of Sins.  But if Drakar had found something powerful enough to harm her, let alone the Endless, then they were in trouble.

“Tell me what we’re up against?  Something tells me a sword that shoots fireballs isn’t going to be enough to take him down.” 

“I only know what the Lord Dreaming has deigned to tell me,” the Corinthian replied.  He was always respectful of his master, no matter what the circumstance, “but Night had the power to birth the Endless.  She neither cares nor is interested in the affairs of this realm.  However, even a fragment of her essence carries the power of the void she represents.”

“So why hasn’t he just wiped us all out already?”  It didn’t make sense to Jason.  It would have been easier if Drakar had simply come and killed or taken Jason outright.  He had been power hungry and murderous before.  If he now had the power of the Endless, there wasn’t any reason for him to not simply take over the world.

“Drakar has tapped into the power of the Endless, but he carries a mortal soul.  His limited mind cannot cope.  He has become deranged from the power.  He took Delirium first, and it has likely destroyed his mind.  He isn’t who he was, Jason, but he still wants revenge.”  

“Drakar is crazy, but he still wants revenge against me.  Through Dick.  And once he’s done with me, it’s the end of the world.”  Jason felt his heart plummet through his chest.  “This is my fault.”  An awful surge of rage and guilt rolled through him.  He’d never be able to forgive himself for putting his lover in harm’s way, and if he didn’t succeed with what the Endless tasked him to do, it would be the end of  _ everything _ .

“No.”  The Corinthian stood now and approached Jason.  Bruce made to intercept, but Jason shook his head at Bruce, and allowed the Corinthian to approach.  He merely put a hand on Jason’s shoulder.  “None of this is your fault.  Drakar found this power before you entered this life.  He would have gained access to this power eventually whether or not you were involved.”  

The Corinthian moved his hand now to cup his face, “you are involved, and the circumstances may have dragged your family into it, but this is about stopping a man from ending this entire realm.  You are at the center of this Jason, but only because Destiny  _ put  _ you on this path to stop him.”

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that?” Jason said desperately.  “I couldn’t stop him from taking Dick.  Deranged or not, he has enough power to take down the Endless.  What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, Jason.”  He stroked his thumb across Jason’s cheek, “but the Endless have faith in you, and so do I.”

“Ahem.”  It was Bruce, and Jason realized the Corinthian was now intimately close, his hand still on his face, his thumb teasing at the edge of his lips.  Jason immediately pulled away, eyes wide, unable to hide his embarrassment.  Bruce was right.  The Corinthian took liberties with him that he would never let anyone else get away with, and he hadn’t even realized it was happening.  Still, he knew the Corinthian meant well, and cared for him to the extent that he was capable, even though he had a disturbing way of showing it.

The Corinthian looked amused at Jason’s fluster, but didn’t stop him from backing away.  “We must wait for Essence.  She can get us to Drakar faster than any normal means, but she is injured. She may be trying to recover.”  Then gesturing toward Jason’s middle, and with a lecherous grin on his face, “I should finish your wards.”

“Okay,” Jason said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.  Bruce was glaring again, and he knew that if he asked for privacy Bruce was going to flip out.  Tim and Damian were looking anywhere but at him.  The dog just sat and panted.  “Just… you can do it here, I can just lift my shirt.”

The Corinthian worked efficiently, drawing the symbols with a strange brush he had pulled out from somewhere on his person.  Bruce was hovering, occasionally barking out an admonition at the Corinthian for his wandering hands, and Jason filled the awkward silence with the history of what he knew of Drakar.  He was reluctant to reveal the nature of the All-Caste, but Bruce was demanding of the full details, and Jason didn’t want to leave anything out if it meant they were less equipped to fight.  His worry at Dick kept eating at him as well.  The Corinthian had said that Essence had seen Drakar, but not Dick.  Other than that, he knew little else.

“What about them?  You can’t just cover me in wards and let them get destroyed,” Jason said, waving to the rest of the bats as the Corinthian finished the last of the symbols on his leg.

“Sure I can.  I can murder them and eat their eyes too.”  He meant it a well, if Jason and Dream would only let him.

“Fucking hell, can you protect them too or not?”  Jason blew out an exasperated breath. 

“No.  I’m not authorized. The boss said the wards are meant only for you.”

“Tell me about this boss,” Bruce cut in. “What does he gain out of this?  Why can't he do this himself?”

Jason puzzled that for a moment. The only one he could picture clearly and put a name to was the man in white who had been speaking to him. Dream. He knew there were others, but he was having difficulty remembering. 

“He’s the Lord of the Dream,” Jason said simply.  “And this power that's taking them down, it's like an infection.”  He could remember a gallery of sigils, and a black mass spreading like mold across the wall.

“He was a man in white,” Damian said suddenly.  “I remember a man in white.  I don’t understand, Todd what is the meaning of this?”

“The boy remembers,” panted the dog.

“You died too,” Tim joined in, realization dawning. “This has something to do with the fact that the two of you died?”

“This has something to do with an evil man dragging down others in his quest for revenge,” the dog spoke again.  

“And what about you?  You’ve been pretty silent.  Do you work for this Dream Lord too?”  Tim was now sizing up the dog.  

“Barnabas is not of the Dreaming,” the Corinthian said, almost disdainfully. 

“Of course not,” the dog, Barnabas, barked back.

“But I remember there were animals,” Damian piped in, but he still seemed confused.  “Strange ones that talked. Like you.”

“This Dream Lord, is he the one in charge?  He must have been the one who woke us.”  Bruce was trying to steer the conversation back, but at that moment Jason felt something approaching.  The pull of a dark power that had the All-Blades itching under his skin.

“She’s coming,” was all Jason had time to say before, for the second time that morning, something crashed through his already broken window and landed in a heap on the floor. 

It was Essence, but something was wrong.  Jason didn’t know exactly how he knew, but he could just  _ feel it.  _

She was infected.

“Jason,” she looked up from where she crouched on the floor. Her dark energies normally emanated around her in black clouds, but this energy was stronger. Somehow more powerful, and even darker. Jason could feel it -- what the Corinthian had called the  _ void _ . It felt like a black hole.  Like it was trying to pull you in and crush the life out of you forever. 

Jason made to approach, to help her, but Essence held up a hand to stop. 

“You have to do it.”  Her voice was strained and the dark depths of her eyes were pleading. “I can’t fight it much longer. You need to perform the rite of purification. The spell that you used the first time to defeat Drakar.”

“No,” Jason said with surprise. “If it works, and I’m not sure it will, that will strip you of everything! All your power. Gone.”

“The infection is consuming her, Jason.”  The Corinthian stepped up behind him now. “I know you can feel it too.  If you don’t do it, she’ll be  _ his _ .”

She would be subject to the same fate as the Endless who had been captured. Jason took a breath.   _ Keep your mind clear.  Embrace the darkness.  Accept the light. Strike.   _ A punch, a twist, and then the flat of the hand. 

He recited it in his mind.  It had been a while since he had even thought of it, let alone perform it on someone. It was the spell he had first learned from Talia.  Before he died and before he had even known who she was.  She had been unable to perform it successfully, but for reasons he still couldn't understand, Jason had nailed it the first time he tried it. His teacher in the All-Caste, Ducra, had taught him to perfect it, and he had used it in his battle to strip the powers from the Untitled. 

And now, Essence was asking him to use it on her. To strip her powers. To save her life from being consumed by the void. 

“Jason!”  Essence gasped, and collapsed, clutching her head. This time Jason didn't hesitate. He was at her side in a stride.   He rolled her onto her back, and performed the rite.

_ Keep your mind clear.  Embrace the darkness.  Accept the light.  Strike.   _ A punch, a twist, and then the flat of his hand against her sternum.  

The room erupted in blinding light, a force of energy blasting out in all directions, and Essence screamed. Jason reached out, grabbing a hold of her and pulling her to his chest. 

“I’m sorry!  I’m so sorry!” he cried. “Essence!”

And then suddenly it was over. 

The light was gone. His apartment was in shambles, but Jason could see out of the corner of his eye that the Bats were picking themselves up off the floor. The Corinthian was still at his back, the dog peeking out from behind him. 

And Essence was limp in his arms. 

Jason set her down gently, frantically checking her pulse, a flood of relief when he realized she was breathing. 

“Essence,” Jason called gently, tapping her cheek. 

Her eyes fluttered open, and Jason sucked in a breath. Instead of the black depths he was used to seeing, her eyes were… normal. Human. Her eyes were brown. 

“Jason?  You did it?”  She moved to sit up, looking at her hands, as if she was unused to the feel of her own body. “It's gone. All of it.”  The look on her face could only be described as grief. 

“I’m sorry,” was all Jason could say.

“No, do not be. It had to be done. You saved my life,” and Essence took his hand.  The act was meant to be reassuring, but Jason could still see her discomfort.  She was lost without her abilities. She had refused to give them up when her mother, Ducra, had demanded it, and chose exile instead. The full implications of what she had asked Jason to do was only now beginning to hit her. 

Essence closed her eyes for a moment, composing herself, and brought a hand to her head, wincing. 

“The man in white,” she recalled.  “I saw a man in white in a dream. When I briefly fell unconscious.   Before I was able to heal enough to come here.”

“The Lord Dreaming,” Jason stated. 

“Yes. He said you would know him.  He wanted me tell you where to find Drakar, but now… my power is gone.  I cannot take us there.”

Shit. “Can you find it on a map? We have to stop him. And he has Dick.”

“I think so.”

Tim hurried over, there was dust and debris in his hair.  His wrist computer projected an image of Central Asia, where he had been trying to triangulate Dick’s last known position. 

“Here,” she pointed.  “There is a forgotten temple, carved into caverns in the ground.”

“We’ll take the bat plane. I'm charting a course now,” Tim said matter of factly, but his voice was laced with concern. It would take them hours to get there.  Who knew what could happen to Dick during that time? 

“If this is truly a world threat,” Bruce jumped in,  “I can call in the League--.” 

“No.”  Jason interrupted.  “You saw what it did to Essence. You call in the League and they’ll just get infected.  We would have to take them down too.”

“And what about him?”  Bruce looked at the Corinthian darkly. 

“It’s possible,” the Corinthian, for once, did not look amused.  “But the Lord Dreaming has recrafted me with the same wards he had me lay on Jason.”

“We’ll have to take our chances. C is coming.  We’ll need him.”  That earned Jason a severe glare from Bruce.  He could feel it all the way through to his core despite the fact that Bruce was still wearing his cowl, but he would just have to deal. If there had to be someone among them that had to face down and kill a deranged man with godlike powers, Jason preferred that it be the Corinthian.  

“Okay, the plane’s ready,” Tim was fiddling on his wrist computer again, and the plane was now hovering outside the window. 

“Okay, I need to get in my gear.”  Jason realized he was still in his shorts and shirt.  “It’ll just take me a minute.”

Jason returned armed to the teeth, and handed Essence the sword the Corinthian had brought. 

“You might not have your powers, but I know you can fight.  Come on," Jason turned to the others. "Let’s go get Dick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-- Everyone beats up on Jason. Poor Jason, he doesn’t have a single healthy relationship, except maybe with Tim?  
> \-- In Bruce’s mind, what the Corinthian did was clearly non-con. Jason can see how Bruce sees it that way it too, but he’s so fucked up that he still feels it was mostly consensual.  
> \-- Barnabas has no powers per se but he talks.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So last few days I've been really busy with work. Like 12-14 hour days busy, so I'm really tired. Thanks again for all the comments, but I am behind and have not replied to the last ones. Sorry, but I need to nap for like 5 days to recover. I really am almost done with this fic, but my last chapter turned into three.... So it will be like 19 chapters. Still working the very end, but its getting close, so I might have to post a bit slower to space it out.

~~~~ Dick ~~~

 

Dick was jolted awake to the sound of clinking chains and the touch of rough callused hands stroking his chest.  He recoiled immediately, and opened his eyes to the sight of Drakar hovering over him.

“Little pretty thing, you are a mouse, and you must run,” he laughed.  That low, manic rumble of his chest echoed through the cavernous room.  

Dick tried to regroup and scramble back, and to his surprise, the chains fell loose from around his limbs.  Drakar had set him free.

“Run, little mouse, and I will catch you,” Drakar laughed again, and muttered something unintelligible.   It seemed he was becoming more and more unhinged, his pupils were blown and unfocused, his face shifted from terrifying glee to angry sneer.

Dick wasted no time and scrambled to stand and run, only to collapse with an involuntary cry as soon as he put pressure on his feet.  He remembered then that Drakar had stabbed him through the soles of his feet, and the pain was excruciating.  

“Is something wrong, my pretty mouse?”  Laughter again.  That horrible, manic laughter.

Dick took a breath, bracing himself for the pain and stood again, sprinting out of the room as fast as he could.  Each step was agony, sending jolts of pain searing up his legs, but he pressed on.  He would suffer the pain, because the alternative was even worse.

He followed the twists and turns of the passages as best he could, trying to track his trajectory, but he had no frame of reference, and soon he was lost.  The pain in his feet was unbearable, and after what felt like hours, but had probably only been several minutes, he collapsed, trembling in pain and exhaustion.

“The cat is coming.  The cat is coming.  Run, run, run my pretty mouse.”  The voice of the madman echoed throughout the passageway.  Dick couldn’t see him, but he sounded close, and he desperately pulled himself onto his hands and knees and crawled.  He didn’t know where he was going. He just need to get _away_.

He turned down another passageway, biting his lip and trying to keep his breathing even, trying to run through one of the several pain management techniques he knew.  He tried to focus on his surroundings to find a way out, and noted that the walls of the cavern seemed to glow faintly.  There was some kind of current of energy running along grooves carved into the walls.  Up ahead he could see something shimmering, something moving.  He crawled forward, and his hand brushed something cold and wet.  It darted away.  It was some kind of frog?

“Not that way my pretty mouse.”  The voice was right behind him now, and Dick turned to see Drakar was standing at the fork he had just turned.  He backed away in panic, crab walking until his back hit the wall.

“Tsk tsk, my pretty mouse.  You must stay clear of the void, so your lover can see the fear in your eyes when I tear your pretty face off.”  More laughter, and the Drakar raised his hand.  An unseen force grabbed a hold of Dick and flipped him onto his stomach and held him down.

“No, you sick bastard!”  Dick cried.  He couldn't let it happen again, and Dick tried to push himself up to crawl away.

More laughter. That horrible, horrible laughter, and Dick cried out again as he felt Drakar touch the bare skin of his back, trailing his hands down to his buttocks.

It was happening again, and Dick could do nothing to stop it. An anguished sob escaped his throat as he felt Drakar force himself into him, tearing him open again.  Dick tried to relax himself as Drakar began to move, his every thrust jarring his entire aching body, pressing him down into the cold, rough stone of the cavern floor.  Drakar continued to  giggle and mutter words he couldn't understand.  

Then, in a taunting voice, “he’s coming.”  More low  laughter.  “The boy.  Your lover. Jason, is coming.”  The words filled Dick with both agony and hope.  

A heavy pressure suddenly on the back of his head, and Dick fell into unconsciousness again.

 

 ~~~~ Bruce ~~~

 

Tim had called up a bat plane that was one of Bruce’s fastest and most maneuverable aircraft that could fit a small entourage.  In their urgency, Bruce hadn’t bothered to argue against everyone having gotten on board, including the talking dog.  However, now that they were en route, he was far from pleased with the turn of events.

The addition of Essence was another wildcard that Bruce couldn't control and that Jason seemed far too comfortable with.  They had gotten a brief synopsis from her - it had taken months to track down Drakar and figure out that he was the source of the disturbance in the Well of Sins. When she had confronted him however, she had barely crossed the threshold of the temple entrance when she was attacked. Drakar had simply come at her with a knife, but the dark tendrils of power of the void had nearly torn her apart.  

She had escaped by opening a portal back to her base in the Acres of All, but not before the tendrils had penetrated her mind and body, polluting both herself and the land she called home.  It currently remained infected, threatening to spread out into the realms of Earth.  There was anger and rage broiling within her. She would see Drakar destroyed for what he had done to her and her home.  Though depowered, Bruce could see she was well trained and potentially deadly, in the way that she hefted the blade Jason had given her, and in her wary scan and constant awareness of the Corinthian's movements.  She saw him as a threat.

That at least, he was thankful for.  He didn't trust her, but he could potentially take advantage of her vigilance. Perhaps even play her against the Corinthian, if circumstances demanded it.  She was oddly protective of Jason, and the subtly inappropriate behavior and small liberties the Corinthian took with Jason had not escaped her notice.

The Corinthian had urged Jason to try and sleep as there was nothing more they could do while they traveled, and it would allow him to connect with Dream to try and get more information. Jason had been too agitated with worry however, and had not been able to calm himself enough to even attempt it. The Corinthian had gotten into his personal space again, as he tried to soothe Jason into being more agreeable.

“Stop touching him,” Essence had immediately harped.  She had beat Bruce to it, and Bruce was starting to see her as more of an ally than he had originally thought.

“What? Jason doesn't mind,” the Corinthian grinned. “He can just tell me to stop if he does.”

Jason had simply backed away with a look of confusion and embarrassment.  He was clearly struggling with overcoming a well established dynamic between them.

“You’re taking advantage of this situation.  He trusts you but he can’t remember why.  You’re exploiting his vulnerability.”  Essence threw her words out like a dagger.  She was clearly not a fan of the Corinthian, and Bruce was liking her better already.  “You’re well aware that we are on our way to rescue his lover,” she added.  “Your actions are confusing him.  Let him be.”

“Wait, your lover?”  Damian said with a look of shock and anger.  “Todd, how dare you!”  Bruce hadn’t shared the new development in Dick and Jason's relationship with the rest of the family, though he suspected Alfred and perhaps Tim already knew. Apparently, Damian hadn’t figured it out yet. As usual, when it came to anyone's actions toward Dick, he was fervently protective. “What did you do to him?”

“It’s not--.  I didn’t _do_ anything to him!”  Jason shot back.

“Stop this now,” Bruce commanded.  If he didn’t put an end to this, they were going to tear themselves apart with infighting.  “Damian, we need to focus on getting Dick back.  We can discuss this later.”

“-Tt-” Damian huffed and looked at Tim.  “You knew, didn’t you?”

Tim simply shrugged.

“We need to discuss our plan of attack,” Bruce said, changing the subject.

There wasn't much to discuss however. Essence had been attacked at the threshold. She hadn’t seen Dick or the Endless anywhere.  “Drakar will likely find us first.  We must distract him until Jason can get close enough to perform the purification rite. He is the only one who can do it now.”

“He nearly ripped you apart. Is there anything you can tell us that would give us some defense?”  As Batman, Bruce had fought beings of far greater power than himself before.  The key was being prepared.  They couldn't overpower, but they could out-strategize.

“I did not anticipate the force of the void.  I was careless,” Essence admitted. “However the effect was not immediate. It drains slowly, as Jason said, like an infection.”

“Our greatest advantage is Drakar is not sane,” she added. “He has little control, and not much else.”

“Good.  Essence and I will distract,” Bruce stated. And then, though he was loathe to say it, “the Corinthian will back Jason until he can perform the spell.”

“What about us?”  Tim asked.  Damian had perked up at the discussion as well.

“You and Damian search for Dick.”  Bruce wanted them as far away from Drakar as possible.  Even with Essence’s assurance that Drakar was completely mad, his boys were basically defenseless against a being of godlike power. If he could keep Jason away he would as well, but it seemed that wasn't possible.

“What about Delirium?  What about the Endless?”  It was Barnabas, the dog. It had been mostly quiet throughout the flight but was now alert.  “I can track them if I can catch a scent.”

“Avoid the Endless until we can be sure they’re no longer a threat.”  

The dog was displeased, but Jason cut in. “I’ll find her, Barnabas. I knew her once too.  I'll free her. I’ll free the Endless.”  Jason had been mostly quiet as well, stewing on his forgotten memories and worrying over Dick, and Bruce didn’t like that far off look in his eye when he remembered something. It was as if every time a memory became more clear, he would lose a little bit of himself to it.  As if that other life he had lived in his dreams was taking over, and Bruce was losing the son he had been getting back. He had that look in his eye now, and Bruce dreaded what might happen when this was over. It felt to Bruce as if Jason was slipping away again, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Jason knelt and patted the dog's head.  “I promise. This is what I promised to do.  Just help me find Dick too. You can do that right?”

The dog seemed appeased and nodded, and the rest of the trip was silent.  Normally Bruce welcomed it, but there were so many questions he wanted to ask. So many things he _needed_ to know about what had happened to Jason, but he couldn't talk to him alone in the space of the small plane.

They reached the temple Essence had mapped out in record time, and Bruce cloaked the plane a short distance from the entrance.  A feeling of dread pervaded his gut.  Even with the information from Essence, their plan was at best rudimentary. There were too many variables not accounted for, they were ill-equipped, and the lack of a powerhouse meta on their side other than the Corinthian, who had acknowledged the possibility of being turned as well, was worrisome. Their mission was outright suicidal in fact.

But Dick had been captured, the threat of the end of this realm… they had to go. And Jason had asked for Bruce's trust, so he did.

The entrance to the temple was an intricately carved stone facade built right into the side of a mountain.  Bruce didn't recognize the hieroglyphics, but the symbology was centered around the natural elements: earth, wind, fire, and water.  He could tell the place was ancient. Essence had been right, this place was likely long forgotten and undiscovered by modern civilization.  

They entered silently, Bruce in the lead, relying on the night vision of his cowl. They had given Essence a spare comm and domino mask, and she followed silently directly behind Bruce, wielding the sword Jason had given her at the ready.

They descended down a wide passageway until they reached a fork and paused. Bruce could hear something faint, almost like the low resonance of someone humming.

The dog, Barnabas, sniffed at the ground. “Drakar, that must be his stink,” he said softly, nostrils flaring. “He’s that way.”  The dog sniffed the air again, and added, “your boy, he’s that way too.”

Shit, was all Bruce could think.  “Stay hidden until my say,” Bruce whispered to the others.  And then to Tim and Damian, “stick to the plan. You two focus on getting Dick.”

They continued in the direction Barnabas had indicated silently, until the passage widened into an enormous hall-like cavern with intricately carved pillars and long stalactites.  The walls glowed faintly with some unknown power, and in the center of the room was a sort of flat stone altar. Dick lay atop of it, face down, naked and chained.

A hooded figure, Drakar, rutted on top of him.

It felt as if Bruce’s heart stopped cold for a second, and then there was a loud roar. A sound of pure rage and belatedly Bruce realized it was Jason.  He had lost control at the sight of Dick being assaulted, and had broken from the plan. He ran headlong into the center of the room, blades seemingly erupting out of nowhere into his hands, going straight for Drakar.  The Corinthian ran after him.

“Jason!”  Bruce tried, but it was too late.  The best he could do now was stick to the rest of the plan. Try and get Drakar’s attention dispersed enough that Jason might get an opening.  

Bruce threw an exploding batarang, stepped into the open to attract attention.  Essence followed his lead and did the same, swinging the sword and sending a ball of fired at a nearby stalactite.  

It worked momentarily. Drakar turned his attention away from Jason and sent a blast of energy at them. They dove for cover behind a large stalagmite formation as the force of the blast shook the entire cave. If this went on much longer, it would bring the entire cave system down on top of them.

“We need to buy more time.”  Essence was crouched next to him, scanning the area for their next move. “Jason,” she went on, “he has too much anger, he won’t have the control needed to cast the spell.”

Bruce nodded and briefly scanned for Jason.  The Corinthian had tackled him at some point and ducked out of sight somewhere.  His other two boys had disappeared as well, probably to find a way to grab Dick from the other side. Now it was up to him and Essence to draw Drakar away.

He signaled to Essence _on three_ , and then they were running in a wide arc toward another corner of the cavern, throwing batarangs and fireballs as they went.

Drakar followed them, belting out an inhuman shriek of laughter, throwing bolts of energy haphazardly.  Bruce signaled again and they split directions now, heading toward opposite perimeters of the room.  

It was working.  Drakar had left the center of the hall and out of the corner of his eye he could see Tim and Damian had snuck in, using lasers in their wrist gear to cut through Dick’s bindings.  They would have him free in another couple of minutes. They just had to keep Drakar distracted a little longer, and hopefully Jason had collected himself enough to attempt the purification.

Bruce stepped out into the open again and Drakar focused on him, muttering something unintelligible and drawing his hands up again to attack. This time however, instead of a blast of power, he threw a dark tendril of shifting black smoke.  Bruce ducked out of the way, dropping into a roll, but he wasn't fast enough. The smoke snaked around and speared through his shoulder.

It felt like a blast of ice, but far colder and paralyzing. He gasped and clutched at the wound.  When he withdrew his hand it came away covered in a strange black film. He was infected.

A loud shriek of laughter echoed through the cavern. Drakar raised his hand again, amassing a cloud of dark smoke and aimed again at Bruce.  He struggled to roll and take cover, but the wound was draining his strength, immobilizing his entire side, and Drakar released the mass with another loud yell.

“No!”  Suddenly Jason was in front of him, taking the brunt of the blast.  The tendril of smoke dissipated upon impact, but he was knocked back several feet onto his back.

“Jason!”  Essence threw a ball of fire from the other side of the cavern, trying to draw Drakar away.

To Bruce’s relief, Jason groaned and tried to gather himself up.  Whatever wards the Corinthian had painted on him were working, and he seemed mostly unharmed. There wasn't any sign the black mass had lingered on him. He wasn’t infected.

Jason scrabbled toward Bruce, pulling him behind a stalagmite into cover.  “Bruce, are you okay?”  He pulled his helmet off, a side of it had been shattered in the attack, and frowned at the black mess of his shoulder.  “Hang on, I can try to purify it.”

A punch that felt more like the stab of a knife, a twist, and then the flat of his palm, and Bruce felt the iciness in his shoulder drain away, leaving an equally painful throbbing wound.  However, the black film was now replaced with blood.

“Stay here,” Jason propped Bruce against the stone, and promptly disappeared.  

Essence was still drawing Drakar away, and he could feel the blasts from the fireballs heating the air around them.  Bruce glanced quickly into the center of the cavern.  Dick was gone, and Bruce quickly tapped his comm.

“Red Robin, come in, do you have Dick?”

“Copy,” Tim’s voice crackled back.  “We’re in a side passage.  I think… I think he's okay.  Not infected, but he’s unconscious.”

“Get him back to the plane and stay there,” Bruce commanded, and attempted to pull himself into a crouch. His side was regaining mobility, but his movements were still sluggish.  He drew another set of batarangs, readying them to throw with his good arm.

Just then he heard Jason yell, “C! Now!” and Bruce saw the Corinthian spring out and pounce on Drakar, pulling him into a chokehold.  Drakar thrashed, shrieking unintelligible words, wildly clawing at the Corinthian.  The dark tendrils of smoke snaked out of Drakar’s eyes and wrapped around him, covering his face and torso in darkness.  

The Corinthian held tight however, and Jason was immediately running at Drakar.  In a matter of seconds, he pulled back his fist and punched. Twisted. Layed out the flat of his hand on Drakar’s chest.

There was an explosive flash of light, and Bruce was thrown back.  The entire cavern shook with the force, sending stalactites crashing down around them.  He could hear Drakar’s screams barely over the din.  

“Jason!” Bruce shouted as the blinding light subsided. It seemed to take eons for his vision to clear, and when it did he saw the Corinthian had been blown backwards from the blast as well.  The black mass of smoke had cleared around Drakar.  The purification had apparently worked, but he was collapsed forward on the ground, laughing.  Jason staggered backwards, clutching his side.  His hands were covered in blood, and Bruce realized with alarm that the hilt of a long knife was protruding from his abdomen.  Drakar had somehow stabbed him with enough force to pierced his body armour.

“No!”  The Corinthian saw it too and sprang forward with a roar.  He grabbed Drakar by the back of the neck with one hand and his shoulder with the other.  Before Bruce could utter a shout, he _ripped_ Drakar’s head off in a horrific spray of blood.

Jason gasped and fell backwards.  The Corinthian released what was left of Drakar and moved forward to catch him, but stumbled and fell to the ground himself. He coughed, a wisp of black trailing from his mouth.

He was infected.  

Drakar was dead, but it hadn’t stopped whatever this dark power was from spreading.

“Jason!”  Essence had clawed herself out from somewhere in the rubble and came up behind Bruce.  She was limping heavily as well, but  struggled to follow. “No, how can that be?”  Essence was looking at the Corinthian.  “Drakar is dead.  The infection should have dissipated when he was purified.”

Bruce desperately dragged his sluggish limbs to reach Jason.  He was on the other side of the cavernous hall, and the broken stone and rubble was making it difficult to traverse.

Even with the blade embedded in his side, Jason  stumbled over to the Corinthian before Bruce could reach him.  Chest heaving, he performed the ritual. A punch. Twist. Flat of the hand. There was another blast of light that brought Bruce to his knees.

“You idiot,” he heard the Corinthian say, and Bruce pulled himself upright again to the sight of Jason leaning on the ground, coughing blood.  He had pulled the knife out, and the wound was now bleeding profusely.

“C,” Jason gasped.  “Take me to them.  It wasn't Drakar. It's _her_....   _She_ is still spreading the infection.”

The Corinthian pulled Jason into his arms and stood up, looking unsure of what to do.

“No.  Put him down.”   Bruce said with desperate concern.   “Jason, you're too injured.  You'll bleed out.”  His entire side was wet with blood. It dripped down the Corinthian’s arms as he held him, splattering onto the cavern floor.

“No.”  Jason panted. He was struggling to get words out.   He put a shaky hand to the Corinthian’s chest, looking him in the eye, and said, “take me to them.”

The Corinthian moved before Bruce could react, still flailing from the numbness that lingered.

“Barnabas!” The Corinthian yelled.  The dog appeared from behind a fallen stalactite.  “Sniff them out. I’ll follow.  We don't have much time before Jason passes out.”  

The dog ran from the hall, and the Corinthian followed with Jason in his arms.

“No!”  Bruce stumbled and fell.  They were too fast, and Bruce could only watch as Jason disappeared out of his sight.  “Jason!” he cried desperately, but they were gone, and Bruce had the sinking feeling he would never see his son alive again.


	15. Chapter 15

~~~~ Jason ~~~

Jason clenched his jaw and tried not to scream at the pain caused by the Corinthian’s jostling movements.  He hated being carried, and he hated being helpless. But he knew he needed to reach Delirium before he was too weak.  The Corinthian would get him there. He trusted him, and Jason just had to stay conscious until he did.

“Hang on Jason,” he heard the Corinthian say. “Just hang on.”

He wondered if Death could actually take him now, before he cleansed the other Endless. If Drakar perhaps wasn't really dead yet, decapitated head and all, or if Death could reach him without setting foot in this realm. She must, he thought. People all over the world hadn’t stopped dying over the last day or so, right?  He closed his eyes for a moment, if he could just rest and regather his strength….

“Come on Jason, stay awake!”  The Corinthian gave him a jerky shake, and the pain in Jason’s side flared unbearably and Jason let out a cry.  He tried to focus on breathing.  In and out. Each shaky breath was laborious.

He tried to distract himself and thought of Dick. At least he had gotten out safe. He had heard Bruce confirm his condition with Tim over the comm.  But what Drakar had done to him… it was all Jason's fault.  He would never be able to forgive himself for endangering Dick. He would never be able to look him in the eye again knowing what he had caused him.  Maybe it was better this way, if Jason just let go, and let the darkness overcome him.

The Corinthian shook him again, and another jolt of pain wracked through him.  “Sorry.  I’m sorry, but you need to stay awake.”  

The Corinthian sounded desperate and sad to Jason's ears. It was odd, because Death or Dream could maybe let him go back to the Dreaming if he died.  But then he remembered there was more at stake.  There would be no more Dreaming if they didn't succeed.  Dick wouldn't be safe. Bruce, Tim, Alfred, even Damian.  It would be the end of everyone.

Jason tried to keep his eyes open, focusing on the Corinthian's face, pinched with concern above him as he ran through the near darkness. The cavern walls glowed with some kind of faint luminescence, and he could make out the features of the Corinthian's mouths. He had always wondered how it was possible the Corinthian could see, but he had learned quickly anything was possible when it came to the Dreaming.

There was something moving beside the Corinthian's head.  At first Jason thought perhaps it was the dark tendrils from the void, but no, it was a school of fish.  

“C,” Jason croaked out, “I think I’m hallucinating.  I see fish.”

“No, Jason. You’re not.  I see them too.”  

Oh.  Jason didn’t try to speak again, trying to conserve his energy. They continued on in silence, and Jason didn’t know if it was minutes or hours. He watched the fish swim in and out of his field of vision, until finally they came to a stop.

“They’re in there,” Barnabas’ voice drifted from somewhere close. Jason couldn't see him, but he could see an entryway up ahead. “This has happened before.  Delirium is affecting the environment. If we go any further, we could lose our minds forever.”

“C,” Jason said, “put me down.”  He pushed weakly at the Corinthian until he complied, gently setting Jason on his feet, but keeping an arm holding his shoulders.

“Stay here. I’ll go in alone.”  Jason gathered himself and moved to go forward, but the Corinthian held fast.

“No, I won't let you do this alone. I’ll help you.”

“No, C.  You take one step in there and you’ll lose it. Delirium will drive you mad. I can’t fight you off right now.”

“But, she’ll drive you mad too.  You can’t do this!”  The Corinthian was gripping his shoulder hard. It was painful.

“I can do this.  You have to let me go.  She’s already overtaking the cavern, pretty soon the void will come too.”

The Corinthian didn’t let go, his mouths were twisted into a look of anguish.

“C, let go.  You have to,” Jason tried again.  “I know what it's like to overcome madness.  Everything I’ve done… this path Destiny put me on… it's so I could do this. Please, C.”  Jason reached up his hand, weakly pulling at the Corinthian's grasp until he finally let go.

Jason turned as quickly as he could.  He couldn't bear the look on the Corinthian's face.  It almost made him lose his resolve.

He limped forward, the pain in his side sending jolts of agony through him with each step. He passed through the entryway into a passage that led downward. He nearly slid all the way down, if not for his grip on the eroded rock protrusions lining the passage walls.

He reached the bottom, and he felt a wave of _pain_ hit his mind like a physical force.  At the same time, he noticed the swarms of fish filling the room.  They looked dark and shiny, glistening in the dim light, undulating and ghostly. And there were frogs, and large toads.  They sprang in and out of his path with each step forward.  And at the far end of the room, he could see three figures.  The man or woman he had seen with Delirium before, slumped against the wall. A larger figure, a woman, nude and lying on her side.  And Delirium herself, huddled in on herself beside them, dark smokey masses spewing out of her form in all directions.

Jason took a step closer, and felt something in him _slip._  Suddenly, he felt blinding rage, and fear.  The fish around him morphed into hundreds of eyes, yellow and glowing, and then that unmistakable laughter of the Joker echoed  between his ears.

“No!”  Jason closed his eyes, focused on his breathing.  Ignored the laughter, stomped down the rage and fear, rode through the pain, and continued to step forward.  He just had to _focus._ He only had to do _one_ thing, and that was to get to Delirium.

He kept his eyes closed, but now the laughter was all around him. He felt heat, like the fire from the exploding warehouse where he had died. And then screaming and gunshots.  That laughter again. The pain in his side was excruciating.  His body ached like he had been beaten.  He heard ticking, like a bomb….

 _No._  He just had to put one foot in front of the other. One. Two. One. Two.

A few more steps, and Jason opened his eyes and looked down.  He was standing in front of her. Delirium. Her eyes and mouth were open, and the black smoke trailed out into the air. Dark tendrils began to coalesce, reaching out at Jason.

He ignored them and lowered himself with a shaky pain filled breath until he was kneeling in front of her. She was in chains, and around her neck there was an amulet set with a dark stone -- the source of the infection. The fragment of the void.  Jason could feel it's darkness trying to pull him in.  He focused on it. Let it feel _him_ as much as he could feel _it_.

 _Keep your mind clear.  Embrace the darkness.  Accept the light.  Strike._ A punch aimed directly at the stone at Delirium’s collar, a twist, and then the flat of his hand.

A blinding flash of light that enveloped him… and then….

 

**************************************************

White. He was surrounded in a haze of white nothingness, and the girl, Delirium was sitting with her legs folded under her, facing him.  The dark mass of smoke and tendrils were gone, and she simply looked at him, her hands in her lap, silent  and completely still.  Her expression was sober, and her eyes… her physical form appeared young, but the expression in her eyes was so far _beyond_ ancient.  It just looked… endless.

“Jason.”  Her voice was soft, barely audible, but he wasn’t hearing it as much as he felt a faint whisper tickling in his mind.  

“Jason,” she said again, “this world has done so much to you. It killed you, horrifically, and put an end to an already painful existence.”  It wasn't a question.  It was as if she was reading him, forcing him to bare his soul to her.  “Your mother who raised you, sold your childhood to keep her addiction.  She let the wolves tear you apart before you had even begun.”

“Yes,” Jason replied.  He couldn’t find any other words.  And even if he did, it wouldn't have mattered. She was seeing everything in him. He felt completely exposed and vulnerable.

“My siblings made you an offer that you took, not knowing that it would scar you for eternity.”

Jason sucked in a breath.  Swallowed.  “Yes.”

She simply nodded, showing no emotion, and continued.

“You went mad.  You were mine for a time, in the realm of insanity.  You know me as you know Delirium, because it was the only way you could cope with what was done to you, and for you to be able to do what you had to do.”

“Yes.”

“You were betrayed. Abandoned. Alone.”

“Yes.”

“You became a monster.  You murdered.  You destroyed lives. You tried to kill the people who had loved you once.”

“Yes.”

“And yet here you are. You are as close to yourself as you can possibly be in the waking.  You sacrificed the only thing you had left, your own soul, to save your family.”

Jason didn’t reply, his voice caught in his throat. He felt something wet on his hand, and his vision blurred.  He brought a shaking hand to his face, only to realize he was crying.

“And yet no one understands what you have done. No one understands why you have changed.  No one understands that becoming someone different was the only way you could also still remain the same.”

Jason felt himself trembling, her words were stripping him bare.  The walls that he had put up to protect himself -- she was tearing everything down.

“You understand. You understand that I am Delirium, who was once Delight. Who changed because I had to abandon who I was. But I am what I am now, because I also remain _unchanged_.”

“I…” and Jason stopped, because the whiteness was fading, and he was back in the room in the cavern, the pain in his side burning and a numbness spreading in his limbs. The fish and frogs, the eyes, and laughter were gone, and it was only Delirium looking at him.

She moved her hand and pulled the amulet from her neck. The stone was now pure white. She pressed it into Jason's hands.

“I will still be with you, Jason,” Delirium said, and stood up.  “Siblings, awaken.”

Jason turned and saw her rouse her siblings.  He moved to stand, but toppled forward.  He felt cold and numb.  A part of his mind felt detached and he realized he was likely in shock. He was dying.  He lay on his side and curled into himself.  He felt drained and empty.  The weight of everything that had happened, Delirium's words, it was all too much. He couldn't process it.  It was too overwhelming, and so he closed his eyes and let unconsciousness take him.

~~~~ Dick, Now in the dreaming ~~~

Dick was having some kind of strange nightmare. He had been lost in total darkness, unable to see anything save for his own person when he looked down. He could see his hands in front of him, and he was wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else. It felt like he had been wandering for hours, until suddenly he saw a door, standing by itself amongst the darkness.  He grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open.

“Hi there, handsome.”  A young woman with pale skin and dark eyeliner was behind the door. “We’ve been looking all over for you.  Hurry up and come in!”

“What?  Do I know you?”  Dick didn't recognize her, but she seemed vaguely familiar.

“Not really. You kinda sorta died for like a minute once. But you’re part of the deal so I barely even showed up for that one.”  She wasn't making a lick of sense, but Dick followed her through the doorway anyway.

“Where am I?”  Once through the door, Dick found himself in a large marbled room with ornate columns.  There were people standing around, looking at some kind of floating window with a scene of a fight.  The girl who had opened the door for him was now staring at it intently.  There was a bright flash and the girl let out a breath.

He moved to look as well, and immediately pulled back with a shudder.  It was Drakar, someone had grabbed him by the back of his neck and literally ripped his head from his body.  Dick felt his heart racing suddenly.  He struggled to suck in a breath.  Drakar had done something to him. He couldn’t remember what, but it was sending him into a panic.  And now he had just watched him beheaded.

“Whoops, maybe we shouldn’t let you watch,” the girl was in front of him again.  “Here, why don’t you sit down.”  She maneuvered him to an enormous chair that sat against a wall.

“Don’t you need to go get him,” someone said to the girl.  It was a large man with red hair, and he was gesturing toward the floating window.

“Nah, I can do it from here.  Trust me, I’ve already got a special place for him.  Besides, we can’t go in until Jason clears the others.”

That caught Dick’s attention.  “Did you say Jason?  What's going on with Jason?”

“Oh.  Dream, brother of mine,” the girl looked at a man dressed all in white, “maybe we can put Dick here in a dream until this is over,” the girl said.

“No, something's going on with Jason,” Dick stood up and stalked back to the floating window.  “What have you done with him?”

“Calm yourself,” the man in white addressed him, and Dick looked at him with sudden realization.

“It's you!  You're the ones that Jason’s been having nightmares about!”  Dick paused, suddenly remembering that the nightmares had warned Jason that something bad would happen to _him_. And something _did_.   _Drakar_ had happened to him and Dick sucked in a panicked breath.

“Come on, sit down before you fall over.”  The girl led him to the chair again.  Her presence was reassuring somehow, and he felt himself relax.  

“Here, maybe you’ll do better with some clothes on.”  She pointed a finger at him and when he looked down, he was in a t-shirt and jeans.  “Stay here and don’t move,” she said, and somehow Dick felt himself obeying. He sat there, he wasn't sure for how long, feeling somewhat dazed.

The girl returned to watching the window with the man in white and the man with red hair.  Dick watched them silently, and though sifting through his thoughts felt akin to wading through molasses, he could tell that they were all extremely anxious about whatever they were seeing.

There was another bright flash of light, this one even brighter and longer it seemed, and he heard the girl gasp. “What’s she doing?  Can’t we go in yet?”

“No, we can still lose ourselves to her if she doesn't pull her influence from the environment.  She’s testing him,” the man in white replied.  “Even after all this, Delirium may not let him go.  She has kept him in her realm before.”

There was a pregnant silence, though it may have only been a minute or two, and then the girl shouted, “He did it!  Jason’s unconscious!  Bring him here!”

Hearing Jason's name shocked Dick out of his stupor, and he surged out of his chair.

“Where is he?” Dick demanded.

The man in white waved a hand, and suddenly a crumpled form appeared before them on the floor. It was Jason.

“Jay!” Dick rushed to his side.  He was covered in blood, and Dick reached a hand out, trying to assess his injuries.  Jason didn’t respond, but his face was pinched with pain.

“That’s not going to help,” the girl said. “This is his dream form.”

“He’s dying,” the man in white said. “In the waking, he has lost too much blood.”

“What does that even mean?  Just help him!” Dick cried.

“I am,” the man in white replied.  “Come, I may need your help to deal with your family.”

“Dick?”  Jason had opened his eyes and was looking at him. Dick clutched his hand, reached out his other to stroke his face.

“It’s gonna be okay, Jay.”  Dick was trying to convince himself as much as he was Jason. Though, in all honesty, he had no idea what was going on.

“Don’t… I’m sorry, Dick.”  The look on Jason’s face scared him. It looked like he was saying goodbye. “I love you,” he whispered, and turned his face away.

“Jay!  No, you're going to be fine.”  Dick said desperately.

“He won’t be if you don’t come _now_ .”  The man in white came up beside him, put out a hand, and _pushed_.

 

*********************************

“No!”  Dick sat up suddenly with a shout.

“Richard, stay down, you are injured.”  It was Damian, he had his hand on Dick’s shoulder, and they were sitting inside what looked like one of the bat planes.

“Who are you?”  It was Tim, and Dick looked over to see he was talking to the man in white from his dream.  He was standing there in the plane, and Tim was in a defensive stance, his bo staff at the ready.

“You!  What did you do to Jason?”  Dick moved to stand, but Damian blocked his way, moving to put himself between the man and Dick.

“I mean you no harm,” the man said simply. “Come, I will take you to your brother.”  He waved a hand, and suddenly they were in a dimly lit room.

Dick immediately surged forward as he saw Jason lying deathly pale on the floor. Bruce was there, performing CPR.  He recognized Essence, who was trying to stop the bleeding on Jason's side.

Some kind of monster with mouths for eyes stood to the side.  “Sire!” he said, as the man in white approached.  He acknowledged him with a nod  before turning to the others.

“Essence,” the man said, and she looked up, but didn't let up the pressure on Jason’s wound. “I will return your power to you,” he continued, “so that you may heal Jason, but you will serve the Dreaming from now on.  Do you agree?”

“Yes!”  She looked down at Jason and back at the man with a pleading look in her eye. “I recognize you now, Lord of the Dream.  Whatever you want, I’ll do it.  Let me save him, please.”

Another wave of his hand, and a pulse of energy surrounded Essence.  Her eyes whited out with some strange energy, and her hands where she had been applying pressure to Jason's wound glowed faintly blue.

Jason coughed.  He was breathing, and Bruce paused his resuscitation, checking his pulse, before letting out a sigh of relief.

Dick pulled away from Damian’s grasp and stumbled forward, falling to his knees.  He realized with pain that there were bandages around his feet, and he had what appeared to be Robin’s cape tied around his waist.  He crawled forward and grabbed Jason's hand.  The bleeding had apparently stopped, but up close he still looked deathly pale.

“You!”  Bruce rounded on the man in white. “You have a lot to answer for!”  Dick could tell he was livid.  Pent up anger nearly ready to explode. Whatever had happened to Jason, Bruce blamed the man in white.

“Bruce, wait,” Dick put a hand up.  “I don't know what happened, but I think he just saved Jason's life. We still need to get him out of here.  He needs medical attention ASAP.”

That brought Bruce back to reason, and he returned his attention to Jason.  At some point he had pulled his cowl back, and Dick could see the worried look on his face.  He turned to Essence, “Is there anything else you can do to stabilize him?”

“No,” it was the man in white who answered. “Essence is needed urgently elsewhere.”  He knelt and picked up an amulet with a white stone entangled loosely in Jason’s palm. “Take this, it will allow you to purify your realm. Even now it threatens to spill out into the rest of the waking. Go now.”

She took it reluctantly, withdrawing her blood soaked hands to take the chain and clasped the amulet around her neck.

“What of Jason?  I have only stopped the bleeding. He won’t survive like this.”  The concern in her voice was apparent. She didn't want to leave Jason to die. Dick hoped that if it came to it, Essence would stand her ground.

“I can take your power away as easily as I have restored it.”  The man’s voice was even and calm, but the threat was clear. “If you want Jason to live,” he added, “you will do as I have asked.  I will ensure his safety, you have my word.”

Essence was still reluctant, but she bowed her head in defeat. “Take care of him,” she was looking directly at Dick, and then disappeared in a cloud of mist.

“He needs a blood transfusion,” said a voice from behind him.

“Shit!”  Dick nearly jumped out of his skin. The pale girl with the dark eyeliner from Dick’s dream was suddenly leaning over him, peering down at Jason from over his shoulder.

“I remember you!”  Damian, who had been completely silent until now, suddenly drew his sword. “You’re here for Todd again!  I won't let you!”

Damian swung his sword, barely missing Dick by a hairsbreadth, as she had been standing right beside him, but she was suddenly gone.

“Ha!  You haven't changed a bit!”  The girl was now behind Damian, who swiped at her again.

“Stop it!”  Dick shouted. “We’re wasting time!  We need to get Jason back to the plane!”

Damian paused, but didn’t break from a ready stance. Bruce and Tim had taken defensive positions when the girl had appeared as well.

“Who are you?”  Bruce had his cowl back on, and Dick knew he was trying to scan her with his  sensors.

“I’m here for Jason,” the girl crossed her arms, but remained a few yards away. “If he doesn't get to a hospital in, oh... another few _minutes_ he’ll die.   I’m not in the business of healing people, and neither is my brother here, but I’ll make an exception this once and take him to a hospital.”

Dick didn't hesitate.  “Do it.  Take him.”  The words were out before anyone could interrupt, and suddenly, the girl and Jason were gone.

“Richard!  Do you know what you’ve done?”  To Dick’s surprise Damian looked stricken.  “That woman, she was there when I died. She….”  Damian trailed off, a look of confusion on his face, and Dick had the sinking feeling he had made a mistake. Did he just send Jason off to his death?

“Where is Jason?”  Now it was Bruce, turning angrily to the man in white again, who still stood silently at the edge of the room.

“I do not know, but my sister will honor her word to you.”

“That's not an answer--" Bruce shot back, but the man put up a hand, and Bruce collapsed.

Dick rushed to him in a panic, Tim and Damian doing the same.

“Bastard!  What did you do?” Dick reached into Bruce’s belt for some batarangs… a weapon… anything.  He needed to ready for an attack. Whoever these people were, they were major jerks, and Dick wasn’t going to stand around and let them pick off Tim and Damian too.  “Tell me, now!  What have you done?”

“You are a very angry family.”  The man seemed perplexed at their reaction.  He gestured toward Bruce and said, “He is merely asleep.  When he wakes, you will know where to find Jason.  This I promise.”

He put up a hand again, and suddenly they were back on the bat plane. The man in white and the monster were nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-- Ok! I actually finished the last chapter of this fic last night. Just more editing and will post it over the next couple days.  
> \-- Sorry for any lack of true medical knowledge... just keep up that suspension of disbelief!


	16. Chapter 16

 ~~~~ Tim ~~~

The events of the last day were bizarre to say the least. Tim had no idea what to make of it, and the only person that could half explain it was Jason, and he wasn't here.

They had set a course back to Gotham after the mysterious man in white had transported them back to the bat plane. Tim had wanted to search the caverns, in case they had simply hidden Jason in another room, but Dick had insisted they leave. 

“He’s not here anymore,” Dick had said. “Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”

Tim knew he was probably right, since spontaneous knowledge had seemed to be the trend during this entire disastrous event -- people somehow knew things they shouldn't have, but with only enough context that the knowledge simply led to more questions.  First the entire family had woken during the night with the urgency to find Jason, Damian had remembered the Corinthian, and now Dick was telling him Jason was no longer where they had last seen him.  It was all tied to dreams.  The man in white, apparently the Lord of the Dream, was giving them clues, but the answers they found were more frustrating than enlightening.

It happened again on the plane ride home.  They had been unable to wake Bruce after the strange man had rendered him unconscious, so they had strapped him into a seat and monitored his vitals until they could get him back to the cave. Halfway into the plane ride he had woken and immediately said, “Jason’s at Metropolis University Medical Center. He was admitted along with several other victims after an alien attack.”  

Bruce had been unable to remember anything else.

Tim hacked into the hospital records and sure enough, several victims, including a John Doe  with injuries and description matching Jason’s had been admitted that evening after the attack.  A quick scan of the news had shown Superman had apparently thwarted whatever the aliens had been planning.

“His condition is listed as critical but stable,” Tim read off the hospital records. “He’s still in the ICU.”

Bruce nodded, and Dick looked visibly relieved. Damian had stayed silent. Whatever was churning through his head, he wasn't sharing. 

“I’ll call Clark,” Bruce added, and tapped his comm, and Tim also sent an update to Alfred.

Tim’s thoughts turned back to the events that had played out tonight.  He wasn't sure what to make of the strange gods that had appeared. They had seemed to be toying with them, using Jason for their own personal gain, but in the end they had helped as well.  Jason ending up in Metropolis wasn't random. Coinciding with an attack provided a cover for the source of Jason's injuries, and the girl could have dumped him at any hospital in the world, but Met U Med Center was world class.  It was also close enough to Gotham to be accessible. 

But then there was Dick.  The gods hadn’t helped him at all. Though his injuries weren’t immediately life threatening, they were perhaps no less traumatic.  Tim had administered rudimentary first aid to his feet and started him on a course of painkillers and antibiotics on the plane, but beyond that Dick had refused to let him check him over. 

Tim was both relieved and concerned.  On the one hand, dealing with the aftermath of sexual assault was way out of his depth, especially when it happened to someone he cared about as much as he did for Dick. On the other hand, he knew Dick needed to get a full comprehensive exam, blood tests, and a psych eval.  He could see strangulation marks on his neck and various cuts and ligature marks on his limbs.  There were probably more wounds he couldn't see, but any attempt Tim made to assess him had him pulling away awkwardly.

“Just stop, Tim,” Dick had said. “I know you’re trying to help, but I just can't right now. Please.”  He didn't need to say what he had really been asking.  That he didn't want to be touched. 

Tim left it alone after that, and Dick paused a moment before following up with, “what happened to Drakar?”

“He’s dead,” Damian said softly. “It wasn't one of us. That monster tore his head off.”

“Oh,” was Dick’s only reply.  He seemed to withdraw into himself after that, and Damian didn’t say anything more.  He merely sat beside Dick in silence, offering support through his mere presence.

Bruce had tried to get Dick to submit to an exam as well after he had woken, but he didn’t fare any better than Tim. In fact, he did far worse.  At one point he grabbed Dick’s face to get a better look at his neck and Dick reacted in a panic.

“No!”  He pulled back with a cry, kicking out to get away.  He had been keeping his legs elevated on the bench he was sitting on, and had refused to strap in, so he ended up falling out of his seat.  “Just leave me alone!  I’m fine!”

Bruce had a hard look on his face as he watched Dick pick himself up.  He had put out a hand but Dick ignored it.  Bruce was clearly angry, but not at Dick, though Tim wasn't sure he was in the right state of mind to be able to tell.  

Damian had intervened then, stepping up between them and giving Bruce a hard shove. “What were you thinking?  He’s clearly distressed.”  Damian was a little arrogant shithead at the best of times, but when it came to Dick, he had a protective streak a mile wide. 

“We don’t have the proper equipment to do this on the plane anyway,” Damian continued. “This can wait until we get home.”  He turned to Dick and said tersely, “I can check your bandages.  Don’t kick me.”

“I'm calling Leslie,” was Bruce’s only response, and Damian nodded in agreement.  Dr. Thompkins’ experiences at the Gotham free clinic left her plenty capable of dealing with what had happened to Dick.  He didn’t argue, but he crossed his arms petulantly.  He did however allow Damian to change his bandages, and afterwards he leaned back and seemingly drifted off to sleep.  Damian sat beside him on the floor and did likewise.  Tim wasn’t sure sleep was the greatest idea, given their recent encounter with the Dream Lord, but he knew Dick and Damian needed the rest.

The whole ordeal had left Tim feeling too distraught to sleep, and he was still feeling extremely  _ unsettled _ .  Seeing Dick  _ and  _ Jason, exposed and vulnerable had shaken him.  The sexually predatory element was completely shattering.  He had been threatened with it once, when R’as had gotten it in his head that he wanted  _ Tim  _ to provide an heir, but he had escaped unscathed thanks to Cass.  Seeing his brothers fall victim to it made him feel sick, and the only way he knew how to handle it was to distract himself.  He concentrated on flying the plane, even though it could run on autopilot.  He checked the credentials of everyone attending to Jason at the hospital.  Bruce seemed to be in a similar state, and he was tapping things into a console and speaking into his comm in a low voice. 

They had waffled on going straight to Metropolis versus the cave, but in the end, Bruce had decided they would go back to the cave first. Dick needed to be treated, and then they would go together to see Jason, as there wasn’t much more they could do for him at the moment. 

They made it back to the cave hours later to find Dr. Thompkins waiting with a message from Alfred -- he had gone to the hospital in Metropolis under the guise of Jason's grandfather.  She watched Dick with a look of worry as Bruce helped him off the plane. The puncture wounds in his feet prevented him from walking without help, and so Bruce had to half carry him to the med bay.  Tim could tell the close contact was making him uncomfortable, and by this point he had become slightly feverish as well.

“We’ll need x-rays on those feet. That’s probably going to require surgery,” she said matter of factly. 

Dick frowned at that.  “I need to see Jason.”

“I called the physician on duty at MUMC.  There isn’t anything you can do for him right now,” she responded, her face softening.  She always had a soft spot for Jason.  “You on the other hand,” her tone went firm but gentle, “need to let me take a look at you.  I can ask the others to wait outside.”  

Bruce had briefed her on the nature of Dick’s injuries, so she was well aware that Dick needed privacy.  She gave Tim a look that said  _ scram  _ and he took the hint, pulling Damian with him back into the main part of the cave.  Bruce lingered, and Tim could only hear the low rumbling tones of his voice carry through the cave as he spoke.

Damian pouted at being dismissed, but he didn’t argue either.  He had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entire ordeal.  Next to Jason, he had been the only other person to have spontaneously recognized these gods.  He was also the only other person to have been resurrected.

“What do you remember?”  Tim asked.  He knew Damian had been trying to work out the puzzle in his head.

“-Tt-,” Damian huffed, more out of habit than any thought out response.  “She didn’t want me to remember anything.  I remember that much.”

Well  _ that  _ was hardly useful.  “Seriously, Damian.  What do you know?”

“Not much.  The only things I’ve been able to recall required specific triggers.  I remember there was some kind of castle.  The monster, the man in white.  The woman. And Todd was there. He warned me. He tried to help me by invoking some kind of bargain, but I don't know what it was.”  Damian closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know that I ever found out, but they forced me to forget.”  Damian kicked a chair in frustration.

After that, Damian closed himself off and sat in a different chair several feet away, and Tim let it drop.  If Damian had solid information he would bring it up.  He wouldn’t risk Dick’s safety by hiding anything at this point.  

Tim tried to keep himself busy, and they would be leaving shortly to go see Jason, so he started pulling up the hacks he used to create false identities.  He needed to  _ do  _ something, otherwise he would be consumed with worry and anxiety.  He wished he could snap his fingers and make all of this go away, but he couldn't, so he focused on things he  _ could _ do.

Alfred had already created a false identity for Jason.  They would probably need a cover story and matching fake IDs for Bruce, and maybe for Dick and himself if they were going to go to the hospital. They normally wouldn't ask for one for Damian since he was a minor, but he could make one just in case.   They would probably need to go in disguise, since they would be far too noticeable and recognizable as a group, especially Bruce.  

If Jason recovered… no, Tim corrected himself.  _ When _ Jason was well enough to come home, Bruce would probably want him to stay at the manor. But Tim figured he would probably want another apartment as soon as he was able to get by on his own so Tim set a bot to trawl for apartments.  He tinkered with the parameters for a while, switching between screens and completing various tasks.  He would need to access the accounts of one of his shell companies to buy the apartment. It would be best if he just simply owned the building. 

Tim brought up another screen, and accessed the medical records again.  He wanted to look into getting Jason transferred to Gotham, it would make it easier--

“How can you possibly be so calm!”  Damian’s voice suddenly disrupted his train of thought. He threw a batarang at the console Tim was using, and Tim pulled his hands away just in time to avoid getting electrocuted. 

Tim turned angrily to Damian, ready to give him the beating he deserved, but the look on his face stopped him. He had taken his domino off at some point, and he was as close to tears as Tim had ever seen him. He tried to mask it with anger, his fists clenched and face contorted into a sneer, but the curl of his lip didn’t hide the tremble of emotion.

He realized belatedly that Damian had been stewing all this time while Tim had been trying to cope by  _ working _ .  It probably looked from the outside that he was unaffected.  Damian lashed out at Tim’s mistaken apathy, not understanding that in reality it was Tim’s most effective, albeit unhealthy, way of trying to quash his inner turmoil.  

From Tim’s standpoint, Damian had been just as successful at hiding his own distress, and he obviously  _ wasn’t  _ coping as well as he would have liked others to believe.  Tim felt guilty at not having noticed sooner, though in hindsight, he  _ had _ known Damian wasn't acting quite right.  He had noted Damian’s unusual silence throughout the whole ordeal… but he wasn't just trying to work out a puzzle, Tim realized, he had been struggling to internalize everything while trying not to let it show.   With his constantly caustic barbs and aggravating pomposity it was easy to forget that he was only thirteen.  If Tim was having trouble grappling with what happened, he could just imagine it was just as difficult for Damian. Dick was his anchor, and to see him torn down and demeaned must have been heartbreaking. 

Damian had been extremely perceptive of Dick’s emotional state as well, and had stepped in earlier when Bruce had unintentionally triggered him into panic.  Tim had just stood there gawping and couldn’t even process what was happening.  Damian had been the one to hold Dick together.  But no one had done the same for Damian.

“I’m sorry,” Tim finally replied.  “I’m really worried too, but I just have to keep myself distracted.” 

From the look on Damian’s face, that was a piss poor explanation, so Tim tried again. “Look, in all honesty, I have no idea how to deal with this.  This is something I would have turned to Dick with, but this time he needs  _ us _ to help him get through this, and I have no idea how.  And Jason -- I have no idea where to even begin with Jason.  We don't even know if he’ll recover.”

Damian sighed.  He seemed to understand and accept that explanation far better than Tim had expected.  “Todd will recover,” Damian said with confidence.  “As much as I disapprove of their relationship, Richard will need him.  He would be devastated if Todd does not return, and I am not prepared to see him harmed any further.”

_ Return. _  That was an extremely strange way of saying it, thought Tim.  It was as if he thought Jason was simply abroad somewhere and not lying in critical condition in a Metropolis hospital.

“Jason’s been through a lot, Damian.”  More than a lot.  He’d been through hell and back apparently, and Tim had no idea what kind of state he would be in once he regained consciousness.  “I’m not sure if he’ll be in a good enough place to even be able to help Dick.”

“He will,” Damian crossed his arms and stood up a little straighter.  “Drake, that is where you come in.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Who else would I be referring to?  You were the one that Todd turned to first.  He trusted you before he trusted any of the rest of us.  You are in the best position to ensure his physical and mental recovery.”  Damian said it with such authority, that Tim wished desperately to believe it himself.  If only it were that easy.

“It’s not that simple.” Tim could think of a dozen reasons for how ill-equipped he was.  “How am I supposed to be able to help him when I don’t even understand what happened to him?  None of us do.  And it could  _ still  _ be happening.”  The thought that the gods could still have their grasp on Jason while he was unconscious was chilling.  

“They’ve been manipulating us through our dreams,” Tim continued.  “They’ve had Jason under their thumb for who knows how long.  And you saw how Jason was with that  _ thing _ .”

“What thing?  What are you talking about?”  Dick’s voice drifted over as he approached from the med bay. It appeared Dr. Thompkins had finished checking him over and stitched the gashes in his feet.  Bruce had wheeled him over in a wheelchair, but he still had a concerned look on his face. 

“This isn't the time, Dick.”  Bruce answered, and Tim was immediately relieved. He wasn't prepared to explain to Dick what the Corinthian had said and done.

“Sure it is. You can tell me on the way to see Jason.”

“But what about your injuries?  Richard, you should rest.”  Damian pushed forward and reached out a hand to touch Dick’s forehead, checking his temperature. 

“I got him in to see a specialist at MUMC.”  Dr. Thompkins stepped up behind them, looking tired and exasperated. “None of you ever listen to me when I tell you to rest and recover. At least this time you’re actually going to a hospital.”

“Okay,” Tim joined in, “I can get our identities printed in just a few--"

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Bruce interrupted. “Alfred has already established Jason as his grandson. That’s all the reason we need to be there. We can come up with something plausible for Dick’s injuries on the way.”

“I’m still waiting for an explanation on what you were talking about,” Dick interjected stubbornly, looking straight at Tim.  “What  _ thing _ were you referring to with Jason?”

The question was met by silence. 

Tim’s throat felt tight.  Dick would get it out of one of them one way or another.  He was good at that, and he was like a dog with a bone when he wanted to be. He wouldn't let it go until he had the full details, but it wasn't something Tim thought he should be dealing with right now.  Not when he had just been victimized himself.  And it wasn't something Tim felt comfortable explaining either. 

Fortunately, Bruce stepped in at that moment. “Tim, Damian, go prep the plane.  It will get us there fastest.  And arrange for us to have a car when we get there.”

Tim obeyed, as did Damian. This wasn't a conversation either of them wanted to have.  They left Bruce with Dick and Dr. Thompkins, and as they turned they could hear Dick reply to something Bruce said heatedly.  It was probably going to turn into a full blown argument. 

“Do you think they’ll be okay?”  Damian’s voice sounded small and uncertain.  A rare moment that reflected the boy he really was underneath the mien. 

“Dick?  Or do you mean Jason? Or Bruce?” 

“All of them.  Everyone.”

“Like you said earlier, we’ll have to be,” Tim replied. “What other choice do we have?”

They had nearly torn themselves apart more than once, but they always pulled through.  And they had always made it back together as a family. They would just have to do it one more time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-- This fic doesn't have a ton of Damian, just too many characters for me to handle! But I am trying to show a little bit of him here and there.   
> \-- I did mention Cass! Sorry, too many characters again, so can't catch everybody. Maybe someday, in a sequel or something :) In the Red Robin solo before New 52, R'as wanted an heir out of Tim, and there is one scene where the villain disrobes right in front of him in an almost rape scene. Tim looks completely shocked, but Cass jumps in and saves the day.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those in the US, hope you are having a good Memorial Day!

~~~~ Jason, Now, in the dreaming ~~~

The Nightmare was a shifting, fractious, and volatile landscape in the Dreaming.  It housed every kind of a monster, murderer, and atrocity that one could imagine and it created new landscapes and nightmares as quickly as the minds of people could dream them.  Once they returned to the waking however, the husks of broken nightmares were often left crumbling across the wasteland of the Dreaming.  

It was here that Jason found himself wandering through a cluster of fragmented nightmares, the edges of them blurring into each other, melting into one giant landscape of forgotten horrors.  It was here that Jason found the remnants of the nightmares that featured _himself_.  Bodies littered the landscape.  Some were of him in his Robin costume, beaten unrecognizable by the Joker.  Some were of him as the Red Hood, shot, burned, or blown apart in some crime-fighting related episode.  And some were even more recent.  There were bodies of him lying pale and cold in a hospital gown.  These were what was left of the nightmares of his family.

“You know, most people can’t wait to wake up and get out of the Nightmare,”  the Corinthian appeared beside him.  “You on the other hand, came here intentionally.  To see how your family dreamed up the various ways in which you would die.  You’re certainly a glutton for punishment.”  He put an arm around Jason and pulled him close.  “You always were.”  The fingers of his other hand traced Jason’s jawline, tilting his head up to look at him.  He leaned in close, brushing his lips against Jason’s.

Jason turned away at the last second.  “No, C.  Please don’t.”

The Corinthian sighed and pulled back from the attempted kiss, but didn’t pull away completely.  He still held Jason close, their bodies pressed together.  Jason knew he should move away, but he didn’t.  Instead he reached his arms up against the Corinthian’s back and buried his face in his chest, tears leaking from his eyes.  Jason let out a shaky breath.  He needed _comfort_ .  He needed someone to _anchor_ him, and the Corinthian was just there.  Just like he had always been.

“If you love him, why don’t you just go back to him?”  It was the Corinthian who finally backed away, gently putting his hands on Jason’s shoulders and pushing him back.

“I don’t know.  I don’t know what to do.”

“You need to stop hanging around here, for a start.  You need to wake up,” the Corinthian replied.  “This isn’t doing you any good.  A nightmare can only show you so much.”

“I know,” Jason said, wiping at his eyes.  “After everything I’ve done.  After everything that’s happened, I just can’t.  It hurts too much.  I can’t face them.  I can’t face _him_.”

“He’s been having nightmares about you every night.  They all have.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many dead dream-forms of you.  The bodies are really piling up.”  The Corinthian smiled.  “I’m going to have fun eating out their eyes.”

“Ugh, that’s disgusting.”  Jason tried to laugh at the joke, but he could only muster a slight grimace.  He knew it was totally fucked up, but that was the nature of the Corinthian.  Jason had somehow accepted it long ago.  Here at least, in the dreaming, nobody was actually getting hurt. Not in a physically permanent way anyway.

“I know,” the Corinthian said, and then continued.  “Come on, I want to show you something.”  He led Jason away from the wasteland and toward an active nightmare.  He could tell by how vivid and hyperreal everything felt as soon as he stepped across the threshold of the dream.  Before he knew what was happening, he realized he was back in the cavern where they had found Dick and the Endless.

“What?  Why are we here?  Who’s dream is this?”  Jason stuttered out.  He knew the answer even as he voiced the questions.  His heart was pounding at the memories of this place.  

“Someone’s been wanting to see you,” the Corinthian said calmly.  “Someone who needs you to save him.”

A scream echoed throughout the cavern, and Jason could now see Dick was lying in the center of the cavern hall, tangled in chains.  A dream-form of Drakar was taunting him.  Laughing that horrible laugh.  He pulled open his robe at the same time he put a hand on Dick’s groin, touching him lewdly as Dick sobbed.

Jason knew it was a dream-form, but he was still livid at the sight of what Drakar was doing to Dick.  He pulled out his gun and aimed it at the bastard’s head and emptied his clip into his face.  A sickening sense of satisfaction welled up in him as he saw Drakar spasm and collapse.

A person’s perspective could shift quickly in the Dreaming.  Consciousness flitted from one scene to the next, and in the blink of an eye, people and objects disappeared in no coherent fashion.  Logical progression was often optional, and likewise Dick was suddenly out of his chains and launching himself at Jason.  

“Jay, thank god! I knew you’d come!”  He clutched at Jason desperately.  “I’ve missed you so much.  Jay, where the hell have you been?”

“Dick, I’m sorry.”  Jay clutched him back.  He felt warm and _real_.  He hadn’t realized how much he had missed this.  The feel of Dick under his hands.  The sound of his voice.  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”  Jason’s own voice came out strained with emotion.  This had all happened to Dick because of him.  He would never be able to apologize enough for what had happened.

Jason took his jacket off and put it around Dick’s shoulders.  He willed it into a long cloak to cover his nudity.  He wanted Dick to feel safe.  He wanted Dick to know that he still loved him.

“If that’s true, Jason, you need to go back with him.”  The sound of the Corinthian’s voice drifted over.  Jason had momentarily forgotten he was there.  He was standing several feet away, watching them.  “He needs you, Jason.  Not here, but in the waking.”  

Dick turned to look as well, and upon seeing the Corinthian, his face contorted in anger.  “You!” he said suddenly.  And to Jason’s surprised, he stepped forward and put himself between Jason and the Corinthian.  “Bruce told me what you did to Jason!  Stay away from him!”

“Good,” the Corinthian replied with a smile.  “Then you know that you need Jason to wake up.  Tell him.  Because if you don’t, he’ll stay here.  Forever.  With me.”

Dick looked confused at that.  “Wake up?  Wait, this is a dream.”  He was becoming lucid, and he turned back to Jason with realization.  “Jay, that’s really you isn’t it?”  His face was a mix of sorrow and pain, but also concern.  He reached out to touch Jason’s face, his eyes were wet.  “Please, Jay.  Tell me it's really you.”

Jason had been too overcome to respond.  Seeing Dick in the Dreaming, seeing what Drakar had inflicted upon him, and then Dick’s reaction to the Corinthian, it was too much and Jason just wanted to retreat.  He needed to regroup.  He needed to process what was happening and he couldn’t do it with Dick looking at him like that.  He swallowed and took a step backward, getting ready to turn and run, but Dick grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t run.  Not this time.”  Dick blinked back at the tears streaming down his face, and Jason realized he was doing the same.  He was breathing in quick panicked breaths, but he tried to focus on the feel of Dick’s hand on his wrist.  He twisted his hand around so that he was returning Dick’s touch with his fingers.  So that Dick could feel that Jason wasn’t trying to get him to let go, and instead he loosened his hand just enough to lace their fingers together.  Jason focused on the feel of their fingers intertwined.

“I know you’re afraid, Jay,” Dick continued.  “I am too.  I’m terrified, and I don’t know how to deal with what happened, but I need you to come back with me.  I promise I’ll help you through this, and I need you to help me.  We’ll get through this together.  I love you, Jay.”

“Okay,” Jason managed to say around the lump that had formed in his throat. “I love you too.”

 

****************** Jason, Now in the waking ********************

Jason felt himself come awake slowly.  The aches and pains of his body hitting him and he groaned.  There was something on his face, and he tried to grab it to move it out of the way, but his hand was restrained.  Or rather, judging by the feel of warm, rough, callused fingers, someone was holding on to him.  And they were talking to him.

“Jay, it’s me.  Its Dick.”

Jason tried to open his eyes, but the lights seemed incredibly bright.  He groaned again, trying to turn his head.  He could hear beeping in the background, and it was making his head hurt.

“Jay, don’t move okay?  You’re still on oxygen.  Just squeeze my hand.  Let me know you can hear me.”

He tried to comply, but he felt like he was trying to swim through cotton.  He managed to curl a finger, and then gave up.

“Jay, that’s good.  Come on, can you open your eyes?”

Opening his eyes seemed like an incredibly daunting task.  It was too much.  He felt a comfortable darkness beckoning him, and felt himself slipping back into it.  Away from the bright lights.  Away from Dick.

_Jason, quit being such a damn coward.  Wake the fuck up already._

The voice of the Corinthian rang through his mind, jarring him back into consciousness.  Jason cracked an eye open to see Dick’s face, inches from his own, staring at him with a worried look.

“Jay!  That’s good, welcome back.”  Dick broke into a radiant smile and squeezed his hand.  “It’s going to be okay, Jay.  It’s going to be okay.”

Maybe.  He couldn’t exactly remember through his fog-filled brain at the moment why everything needed to be okay.  His memory was hazy, but he felt like he had been almost ready to give up, but Dick had brought him back.

He looked again at Dick and noted that he looked haggard.  He hadn't shaved and he had dark bags under his eyes, as if he was sleeping even less than usual, but he smiled at Jason, and Jason thought he looked beautiful when he did that.  He wanted to see him smile again.   

“Richard, don’t get up, you’re not supposed to be on your feet.”  Damian’s voice drifted over from somewhere in the room Jason couldn’t see.

“Shhh, Damian.  Let Dick talk to him.”  Tim.

“Both of you, be quiet.  Jason, can you hear me?”  Bruce.  He realized belatedly someone else was holding his other hand, and it was Bruce.

“Master Bruce, perhaps you should let him come to at his own pace.”  And there was Alfred.

The rest of the family was here.  There was something that he was meant to remember, but he couldn’t place it.  He knew he was in a hospital bed, but he didn’t know how or why he was here.  He tried to free one of his hands to pull off the oxygen mask.  He wanted to ask what had happened.

“No, Jason, leave it on,” Bruce tried to quiet him.  “We can talk later.  Just take it easy.”  Bruce squeezed his hand reassuringly, and he could see now the rest of the family had stepped into view.  

Jason felt a tiredness come over him, however, and suddenly there was a man in white with him, Dream, and he was pushing him.  Telling him to turn around.

 _You need to go back.  He needs you, Jason._ A voice in the back of his mind, and Jason did as he was told and turned around.  He pulled himself awake and Dick was there again, holding his hand and coaxing him softly.

“Jay, can you hear me?  Can you open your eyes?”

“Dick?” Jason croaked out.  The oxygen mask was gone this time, and Dick was leaning in close.  His eyes were red and bloodshot. Jason’s head was clearing, and he could feel a mild aching pervading his body as he took stock of himself.  “How… how long have I been out?”

“You’ve been in and out for a couple of weeks,” Dick replied.

Jason blinked at that.  It certainly felt like he had been out for ages, but had it been that long since…?  Fuck.  

Memories flooded back to him, and before Dick could react, Jason hauled himself over to get a better look at Dick, ignoring the sharp stabbing pain along his side.  He was sitting in a wheelchair pulled up to Jason’s hospital bed.  

“Are you okay?” Jason asked, concern and anxiousness suddenly overtaking his attention.  The last time he remembered seeing Dick, Tim and Damian were pulling him out of that godforsaken cavern.

Dick made a noise that was halfway between a snort and a sob.  “I should be asking _you_ that.”

“I’m serious, Dick.”  Jason reached a hand out towards his shoulder, and Dick suddenly flinched back.  Fuck.  

Jason pulled his hand away.  Anger flaring.  Not at Dick, but at that bastard Drakar.  His vision clouded, and somewhere in the room, Jason vaguely registered something was beeping faster.

“Whoa, Jay.  Calm down,” Dick looked shocked and reached out to grasp Jason’s hand again.  “Lie down.  I’m okay.  You just surprised me is all.  It’s okay,” he tried to soothe.

Jason realized the frantic beeping was his heart monitor, and Dick tried to gently push him back down onto the bed.  Jason batted his hands away, tried to suck in a breath, but his chest felt constricted.  “I’m sorry,” he gasped out.  “I’m so sorry!”

“Stop, Jay!  It’s not your fault!  Just take it easy!”  

Jason distantly registered that Dick’s voice sounded panicked, but his voice seemed to fade into the background and his vision whited out.  All he could see was that damned cavern.  Drakar.  And shit, the Corinthian.  A man in white.  A girl with pale skin and dark hair.  A palace.  A piece of paper with pictures on it.  

A sharp pain exploded in his head.  He heard voices.  Shouting.  Screaming.  He was screaming.

“Jason!  Stop.  Listen to my voice.”  The voice that cut in was sharp and commanding.  Bruce.  Jason focused on it desperately.  “That’s it.  Look at me and breath.”

Jason opened his eyes.  He hadn’t even realized he had closed them, and looked into Bruce’s steely blue gaze.  

“Focus, Jason.”  Bruce had Jason’s face in his hands.  He sucked in another breath.  There was a sharp sting in his arm, and everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_I’m sorry.  It was too much for your waking mind, Jason.  If you want to keep your sanity, you must forget._

The next time Jason opened his eyes, he was in a different bed.  It was a regular four poster bed in a large furnished room.  Sunlight streamed through the windows. 

He pulled himself into a sitting position, his body aching in protest.  There were bandages on his side, stitches, and his limbs felt heavy and sluggish.  A glance around the room revealed he was in the mansion.  His old room at Wayne Manor in fact, and Dick was sitting in a wheelchair by the bed, hunched over asleep.  

There was an IV in his arm and wires taped to his chest.  He pulled the wires loose, and the monitor let out a long beep.

Dick jolted awake.  “Jason?”  He leaned forward and grabbed Jason’s hand.  There was shock in his eyes, but also wariness.

“What is it?  Why are you looking at me like that?”  Jason was alarmed, and lifted a hand to reach out, but then remembered Dick’s reaction the last time and pulled back.

Dick looked back at him, confusion crossed his face before he noted that Jason was hesitating.  This time, instead of pulling away he launched himself out of his chair and pulled Jason into his arms.  “Jay, you’re back!”

Jason was bewildered at Dick’s reaction, but returned the embrace.  “Dick, what the heck is going on?”  His voice was cracked and strained from disuse.

“You don’t remember?”  

He shook his head.  His memories were hazy, and there was a mild ache behind his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.  Just lay down.  I’ll call Bruce and Alfred.”

Jason found out later that he had been catatonic for days after he had previously woken.  Dick had explained that the one time he had been come out of it was when Essence had suddenly appeared, and his All-Blades had erupted out of his hands.  Fortunately, Dick had been unharmed, and the hospital staff hadn’t been in the room.  Essence disappeared before Jason could do significant damage to her or himself, and he relapsed into his stupor afterwards. Bruce had opted to move him back to the Manor at that point.

“Those blades, how did you get them, Jay?”  Dick had asked quizzically, but Jason only shook his head.  His memories were a churning morass of anxiety in his head, and it felt too complicated to explain.  

Bruce had tried to question him later about what he remembered too, but he could only get as far as performing the purification on Drakar before his heart would begin to pound and a sharp throbbing pain in his head would overtake him.  Alfred had intervened at that point and Bruce let it drop, only to bring it up again a few days later.  After the second time, Jason simply shut down when anyone brought up his memories.  He didn’t allow himself to go there.  Instead he kept himself focused on Dick, anchoring himself in his presence.

Dick was still recovering from the stab wounds in his feet, and had been ordered to avoid putting pressure on them for several more weeks until he fully recovered.  It made him constantly antsy and frustrated, but that wasn’t what worried Jason.  It was dealing with the emotional turmoil of what Drakar had done to him.  It was dealing with the aftermath of having been raped.  And Jason could only blame himself for what had happened.  There was no way he would have targeted Dick if not for Jason’s connection.  The guilt ate at him, and he focused on making sure Dick was okay, that he was recovering.  It was the least he could do.

Dick had tried to play it off, pretending he was less affected than he was, but Jason _did_ remember how Dick had flinched involuntarily that first time Jason had moved to touch him.  Jason had watched him interact in the same room with the rest of the family after he had woken up, and he could tell that Dick avoided unnecessary contact, and the others were trying to give him space.  At first, Jason had tried to refrain from touching him as well.  This was a territory he was unfortunately somewhat familiar with.  He had grown up with kids on the streets who had been picked up regularly by johns and pimps whether they consented or not.  He had even _been_ one of them on more than one occasion, and he knew what it felt like to have been betrayed by your own body.  But Dick was the most physically affectionate person he knew, and despite his trauma, Jason knew that at his core Dick still craved personal contact.

This was apparent even those first few days after Jason had emerged from his catatonia.  The first night, Dick had hovered near Jason until he fell asleep in exhaustion, still upright in his chair.  The second night, and though Alfred had placed them in their respective rooms, Jason had woken to find Dick standing at the foot of his bed.

“Dick?  What's the matter?  You’re not supposed to be on your feet,” Jason had said worriedly.  It was dark, and Jason could only see his silhouette, but he could recognize the line of his body anywhere.  

“I know. I just…” Dick didn't finish, but Jason knew anyway.  Nightmares.

He shifted over in the bed and pulled the blankets back. “Get in.”

Dick climbed in, laying on his side and facing Jason. They twined their fingers together and Dick held their hands close to his chest.

“I missed this. I missed us,” Dick said softly.  “All those weeks you were in a coma, and then when you woke up… it's like you weren't there.  I didn't know if I’d ever get you back.”  Jason couldn't see his face in the dark, but he could hear the the pain Dick was trying to hide in his voice.  He had been holding back all these weeks, and now it threatened to spill out.

“I’m here, Dickie,” Jason replied, squeezing his hand tighter, and to his surprise, Dick scooted closer and kissed him lightly.  And then, instead of pulling away again, Dick reached a hand out behind Jason’s neck to bring their foreheads together.  There was a slight sniffle, and Jason pulled their still twined fingers up to touch his face.  Dick’s face was wet with tears.

“You almost died,” Dick stifled a sob, embarrassment tinging his voice.  “I shouldn't be the one falling apart.”  
  
“It's okay, Dick.  I _know_.”  Jason let Dick construe the meaning -- that he knew what it felt like to be violated.  “Don’t hold it in.  Just let it out.”

Dick let out a shuddering breath, and curled himself into Jason’s chest.  Dick held their hands together and Jason refrained from embracing him further at first, letting Dick dictate the terms of their proximity, but eventually Dick moved Jason’s arm to his shoulder.  Jason held him close until Dick’s breathing slowed and he fell into a deep sleep.  It was probably the first time he had slept properly in a long while, and it seemed Dick’s nightmares quieted with Jason at his side. They slept in the same bed every night after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~

In the weeks that followed, Jason watched as Dick slowly got better.  He was noticeably less jumpy, and he smiled more.  Friends came to visit.  Wally.  Donna.  And Dick didn't flinch when they tried to hug him as long as he was prepared.  Jason would usually make himself scarce when guests were around.  Roy came once, but Jason had Tim take him out of the manor back to his apartment, and let Jason hide away and read while he worked.

Jason was glad and relieved at Dick’s improvement, but his guilt didn’t lessen.  He wanted Dick to be happy, but Jason wasn’t sure how much that should involve him.  He was just too _damaged_ , and he was afraid he had caused too much pain for that to be possible.

Physically, Jason was recovering well, but he continued to suffer an inexplicable feeling of loss.  He knew deep down that his forgotten memories were more than the result of his recent traumatic experience.  He couldn’t remember any more than what had transpired leading up to their confrontation in the cavern, but he knew enough that it felt like a part of himself had been cut off.  Some essential part of himself had been lost, and he didn’t feel _whole_.  

He slipped out one day after he had helped Alfred bring plates back into the kitchen after lunch.  He wasn’t sure why he stepped outside, but he found himself wandering the Manor garden, pacing up and down the aisles until he found himself in a courtyard.  He stopped to take in the carefully manicured rows of flowers and hedges and he was hit with an overwhelming feeling of disappointment.  It just didn’t feel right.  The paths didn’t intersect the way he thought they should.  As if he had expected to find something else here, but he didn’t know what.  He sat on a bench and put his face in his hands.

“Jason?”  It was Bruce.  “What’s wrong?”  He was kneeling in front of Jason, looking at him intensely, brows furrowed.  He was worried, but Jason didn’t feel right having that directed at him.  He stood up abruptly, his heart hammering in his chest, and ran back into the Manor.

“Jason! Wait!”  Bruce was running after him, but Jason ignored him and crashed through the halls and ran up the stairs.  He passed a room on the upper floor and was distracted by a bright light.  He stopped short and looked.  It was sunlight, coming from an open balcony attached to one of the dens.  

He ran out onto it and gripped the rails, gazing out over the landscape.  The sky was blue, but it was too pale.  It should have been a breathtaking azure.  

It’s wasn’t right.  It just wasn’t right.

“What’s not right?” Tim was beside him this time, and Jason realized he had said the words aloud.

“The sky, it's too pale.  When the sun sets... it should have colors.  I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Are you remembering something?” Tim asked.

Jason only nodded.  He stared out from the balcony.  He used to spend a lot of time looking out from a balcony, but this wasn’t quite right.  The balcony, the landscape… it was all wrong.

There was a commotion inside the room, and there were people talking.  He ignored it.  Someone grabbed his shoulder, but he shrugged them off, annoyed.  He collapsed and huddled in a corner, looking out at the sky, watching it until the sun started to dip behind the trees.  He kept comparing it to an image in his mind of clear dark azure skies with something flying in the distance, and sunsets that blazed fiery red and cerulean colors.  The image was vivid, and felt more real in comparison to the reality of the bleak Gotham horizon.  He loved Gotham, always had, but seeing the contrasting image in his mind left him incredibly sad and bereft.

“The air pollution in Gotham has cleaned up over the last ten or so years.  Odd side effect is the sunsets aren’t what they used to be.” Tim’s voice drifted into his reverie.  “It's’ kind of a shame, but a small price to pay for clean air, I guess.”

“I wish you could see it, Tim.”  Jason heard himself say.  He was talking, but the voice seemed to be detached from his mind, like he was on autopilot.

“Come on, it's getting cold.  Time to go in.”  Tim nudged him with his elbow, and Jason turned to find that Tim was sitting next to him on the balcony.  It was nearly dark now, and he remembered that he had been wandering in the garden after lunch.  

“Shit!”  Jason cursed, suddenly snapping out of his funk.  He must have been sitting on the balcony for _hours_.  “Where’s Dick?”

“He’s inside, waiting.  He tried to run up the stairs after you when you first came up, and Bruce had to stop him before he messed up his feet.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he was here until a few minutes ago.  I convinced him to wait outside the door so I could talk to you.”

“Oh.”  Jason pulled himself up.  He felt stiff and his healing stab wound was still tender.  He had probably strained it earlier crashing around the house in panic.  “How did you know?  How did you know how to bring me back?”

“I didn’t, but I noticed that you weren’t entirely unresponsive.”  Tim had gotten up and was leaning at the threshold of the balcony doors.  “Dick was freaking out too much.  He kept trying to get your attention, but it wasn’t working.  You were too focused on something.  I figured I’d just try to focus on whatever you were looking at too, and see if I could get you back that way.”

It had worked, and now Jason felt sheepish.   Dick was probably on the other side of the door of the den, frantic with worry.

“He’s a lot better since you woke up,” Tim followed his eyes to the door.  “That is… at least until tonight, I guess.  You didn't see him when you were still in the hospital. It was bad.  Like, really really bad.”

The guilt crawled up and tightened his chest again.  “I want to be there for Dick.  I shouldn’t be so lost.  I shouldn’t be spacing out and looking for something that’s not there.”

“You _are_ there for him,” Tim reassured.  “He wouldn’t let any of us near him without completely flipping out until you woke up. And now he lets people give him hugs.  He even ambushed me and Damian the other day.”  Tim took in a breath, held it for a few seconds while he tried to get control of his emotions.  He wasn’t unaffected by what had happened either, but Tim was still a bat, and he tried to hide how he felt too.

“Don’t underestimate what you’ve done for him,” Tim continued.  “You’ve been everything to Dick these last few weeks, but you have to let him be there for you too.  You have to let us help you.”

“I can’t…” Jason started, but Tim interrupted him.

“He’s not going to get all the way better unless you do too, Jason.  Dick’s stubborn that way, so you’re going to have to try.”

Jason sighed, swallowed a lump in his throat. “Okay.”  Tim was right, Dick was stubborn as a mule when it came to people he cared about, and even Jason wasn’t deluded enough to convince himself that Dick didn’t care.  Not when Dick openly declared it whether or not they were alone together.  Not when he could see Dick struggling with his own reactions and trauma just because he mistakenly thought Jason needed him to be stronger.  Jason didn’t need Dick to be anything other than who he was.  He didn’t deserve it, but Dick loved him, and Jason loved him back.  He didn’t know if things were going to be okay, and he didn’t know if he was ever going to feel whole again, but for Dick’s sake, Jason would have to try.

“Okay, are you ready?  Once I open that door, he’s going to tackle you.”  Tim smiled.

“Yeah,” Jason said, squaring his stance.  He would be ready with open arms when Dick came flying through that door.  At least in the here and now, he would be the anchor Dick needed him to be.  “Open the door.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so hard to write, I hope it turned out okay. Originally I had planned for this to be the last chapter, but I felt like some things are still unresolved, so there are actually two more chapters after this!


	18. Chapter 18

********** Several weeks later,  Dick’s POV ***********

Dick hefted another box into what they had started to call the stockroom.  He had been moving boxes all day, and he had started to feel sore hours ago.   Dick’s physical injuries had healed relatively quickly, thanks to the attentiveness of the specialized surgeon at the Metropolis hospital, and a little extra help of alien technology from their superhero friends.  They had even started training again to get back out on patrol. However, Dick had really only been cleared to be on his feet and active a few weeks ago, and he was definitely feeling out of shape.  He should probably have stopped earlier, but he wanted to get this done.  He wanted to get settled.  They were moving into a new apartment.  Him and Jason.  Together.  

The thought made Dick smile.  He was grinning to himself like an idiot, but fortunately he was alone in the room for the moment.  

The so called stockroom was a specially outfitted room Tim had helped them build into their new apartment to keep their various weapons, explosives, and ammunitions.  It was connected to a separate secured floor that they could use exclusively to train, though Tim had explicitly warned them not to use any explosives within the building.  Alfred had arranged movers for most of their personal effects, which ended up mostly belonging to Dick.  Jason had lived a spartan life, and what was left was their bat-related paraphernalia, which they had opted to move personally.  Everyone had been there earlier that day to help.  Alfred stocked their fridge, Tim added some finishing touches and transitioned controls to their security, Damian “supervised,” and Bruce did the final inspection of the apartment.

Damian had been extremely helpful during the move.  He had organized everything into an inventory and oversaw the professional movers, much to their amusement.  Then, he had procured and provided everything they needed for their stockroom.  He had hovered around Dick like some kind of pint-sized, despotic mother hen the entire time, always making sure he didn’t lift anything too heavy and that they stopped for breaks. He even made sure Jason was taking it easy.  Dick felt a little guilty about leaving him behind at the Manor, but this needed to be done.  Now, all that was left to do was their unpacking, and the rest of the bats had made their exit.  

Dick sighed with relief.  At one point he wasn’t sure he’d ever get Jason to agree to moving into this particular apartment.  Jason hadn’t been thrilled with the proposition that the bats had a hand in building their new home.  

“Let me get this straight,” he had said, “you want me to move into a place that literally has bat-eyes wired into the wall?  Big Brother much? No thanks.”

“Come on, Jay, you know it's not like that,” Dick had tried to assuage.  “Believe me, I don't want Bruce or Tim hacking our surveillance either, but you have to admit it would help if anything happened again.”  Dick knew Bruce and Tim wouldn't hesitate to hack in if they thought either him or Jason was in danger. He was willing to accept that risk if it meant help would be on the way sooner. He had heard what had happened to Jason -- that the Corinthian had him in his clutches for hours before anyone knew anything was wrong.  

Dick shuddered at the thought.  They still didn’t know everything that  _ thing _ had done to Jason during that time.  Jason had insisted that the Corinthian wouldn't have hurt him, but Dick wasn’t so sure. Bruce had been adamant that Jason had been assaulted, and then it had manipulated him into complacency either magically or psychically.  He still feared that the Corinthian had access to Jason through his dreams as well.

Jason himself had refused to engage on the topic.  “He’s not fucking me anymore and I’m not cheating on you, if that's what you're asking,” he had shot at Dick angrily when he had broached the subject.

“No, Jay, I know you wouldn't do that to me,” Dick had said, taken aback. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.  That he’s not still hurting you.”  

“I’m fine.”  And that was the end of that. Jason wouldn't say anymore. 

Dick had let it drop after that. He didn't want to fight, and other than that Jason had been extremely supportive and caring towards Dick.  In fact, Jason was the one person who fully understood what he felt.  Everything that had happened to Dick had happened to Jason at some point in his life as well, perhaps to an even larger degree and over a prolonged period of time.   Unlike the others, he didn’t look at Dick with pity in his eyes.  He looked at Dick with  _ understanding _.  Most of the time he didn’t even need to say anything.  Jason just knew.

Dick had come a long way since those first few weeks after what happened at the cavern.  During the time Jason had been in a coma, Dick had been barely hanging together by a thread.  He shied away from any unnecessary personal contact, and only assented to what was required from the medical staff for the wounds in his feet. He was plagued by nightmares, so much that he stopped sleeping as much as possible.  Most of the time he fell asleep in his chair holding Jason's hand. 

And then when Jason had finally woken with full mental faculties, Dick had screwed it up.  He had flinched at Jason’s touch, sending him into some sort of panic attack that left him in a catatonic state.  Full of guilt, Dick had completely unraveled at that point.  He had stayed by Jason's bedside day in and day out. Alfred had been unsuccessful in getting him to eat, and when Bruce had tried to forcibly remove him to get him to rest, he had reacted so badly Bruce had to restrain him so the hospital staff could sedate him.  

Damian had been the most successful at getting Dick out of his downward spiral. “You’ll be no good to him like this,” Damian had tried.  “If you are truly so concerned for Todd, then you must not die of starvation first. Eat and rest.”  Damian paused and looked away before continuing. “Please, I don’t want to lose you too, Richard.”

He had never seen Damian allow his vulnerability to show so openly, and Dick was hit with another wave of guilt.  He was letting Damian down too.  He pulled him into a hug, and Damian had momentarily dropped his shield of arrogance and clutched him as if for dear life. Dick found comfort in the embrace, and it didn't trigger him into any sort of panic.  He realized he missed it as much as Damian pretended not to.

He had tried harder to pull himself together after that, but he still stayed by Jason’s bed as much as he could. He had been shocked when Jason had suddenly launched out of his hospital bed, swords appearing out of nowhere, to slash at a cloud of smoke that turned out to be Essence.  She had blocked and held him off long enough to tell Dick, “I will fix this!  I promise!”  She was gone again, as if she had never been there. 

After that, Bruce had moved them home and Dick had waited, putting his faith into Essence’s words.  He resolved himself to make sure that when Jason woke again, there would be no question as to how Dick felt.  He wasn’t sure why, but he was convinced that if he didn’t show Jason how much he needed and loved him, he would lose him.  Jason would slip away back into the memories that threatened to overtake his mind.  So Dick worked at it, and fought to overcome his own trauma.  He knew it was easier said than done, but he couldn't stand to lose Jason all over again.  

However, after Jason had woken, Dick found that it wasn't him trying to help Jason recover most of the time, but the other way around.  Even those first few nights, it was Jason who comforted Dick, who allowed Dick into his bed, who held him close so he could finally get more than a couple hours sleep.   It was Jason who knew when to back off, how to talk Dick down when he was feeling frustrated with his reactions.  Jason also knew how to touch him without setting him off.  They had their occasional missteps, but it was Jason who got him used to the feel and  warmth of another person again.  

“How long did it take you to get over it?” Dick had asked one night.  They were lying in bed together and Dick had initiated a kiss.  He wanted more, but he had been afraid to go further. 

“I don't know.  I don't know that I did.  It was a long time ago.” Jason squeezed his hand.  “I died, and when I came back, I was... different.”

Dick could only fathom how much worse it must have been to have experienced what he did as a child.  And perhaps still experienced as an adult if what Bruce suspected was true.  He understood now why Jason didn’t talk about it.  It was because he simply couldn't.  It was too terrible for thought, and Jason never had what Dick did.  He didn’t have someone to guide him back to himself in the same way that Dick had Jason. 

Sex had been out of the question for a while, but Dick desperately wanted to get back what had been taken from him.  Jason deserved a lover who wasn't broken, who could be there for him and keep him grounded in reality.  He wanted to have that closeness and easy familiarity that he and Jason had developed before everything went south, so he worked at trying to find other ways to be close, but not intimate.  Not  _ yet _ anyway. Dick was working up to it, and he looked for ways to touch that felt safe. He constantly laced their fingers together, he slept pillowed against Jason’s chest, he used him as a crutch when he had finally been allowed to bear weight on his feet, and he looked for opportunities to share a kiss.  Even if it was just a peck.

Dick gradually regained a level of comfort in his own body, enough that he had started wanting to be intimate again.  

“I want to try.” Dick had said. He had been feeling that familiar stir of desire resurface when he was close to Jason.  When they were pressed together in sleep, and when he would wake up spooned in Jason's arms.  It had taken a while for him to get comfortable with that level of contact, and Dick had started to feel like he wanted more. 

In that moment he had just went with it.  He had always been one to improvise and follow whims, and at that point, his body was telling him he wanted Jason.  He took Jason's hand and guided it down his chest, under the hem of his briefs to in between his legs, pressing both their hands to stroke his hardening member. 

“Dick,” Jason hesitated.  He was watching Dick closely for his reaction.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”  He confirmed it by leaning in for a kiss again, and Jason kept their hands together as he stroked Dick to completion.  The orgasm rolled through him, and the low moan that escaped his lips was that of pleasure.

He had tucked his head into the curve of Jason's shoulder, inhaling his scent. Basked in the warmth, before reaching down to Jason's boxers to reciprocate. 

Jason stopped him.  “It's okay, Dick,” he had said. “Just focus on feeling good.”  Dick made to argue, but Jason pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.  He simply shook his head.  Dick felt guilty, but if Jason said no, he wouldn't push it.  Eventually he had let himself relax and fall asleep huddled in Jason’s arms.

That had been several weeks ago, and since then they had shared a few more hand jobs, and then several blow jobs, and they had even gotten to the point where Jason had penetrated Dick with his fingers as he sucked him off.  Dick was healing, thanks in no small part to Jason.  Jason was his rock. His anchor.  

Dick was still frustrated and angry with himself however, because he didn't know if he could say he was the same for Jason.  The truth was Dick wasn’t well equipped to help Jason deal with what he had gone through.  He just didn’t understand what had happened.  None of them did, and Jason wouldn't or  _ couldn't _ talk about it, and it was extremely worrisome, because it was hard to tell to what extent Jason had been affected mentally and emotionally.  

Jason still seemed  _ distant  _ sometimes, especially after he would wake up.  It wasn't so much that Jason was plagued by nightmares, but more like he would lose himself to whatever memories he could recall.  He was constantly searching for something he couldn't even identify, and he often seemed…  _ disappointed _. 

He tried to hide it and he would withdraw into himself.  Sometimes he would disappear for hours at a time, and after the episode where Jason had slipped into an unresponsive state, Bruce wouldn’t let him out of his sight.  He was extremely concerned, and Dick agreed, but Jason found the increased attention suffocating and became angry and defensive.  

“Just leave me the fuck alone!” Jason had screamed one day after he had somehow evaded the Manor’s surveillance and disappeared for an entire day.  At first Dick had been fraught with worry, but when Jason actually turned up he had been angry that Jason hadn’t bothered to say anything.  

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you!” Dick had cried.  

“Out,” was all Jason said.  Bruce had laid into him as well, and Jason wouldn’t have any of it.

“Fuck all of you!  I’m done with this shit!”  He stomped out into the Manor garage, hotwired a motorcycle and left.  Dick and Bruce had made to follow, but Tim stopped them.

“No, let him go.  I’ll bring him back.”  Tim had gotten Bruce to back down already, and he had a knack for not exacerbating Jason's tantrums, so Dick had reluctantly agreed. 

Sure enough, they both came back later that night.  Jason apologized and recanted his outburst, but Dick had been devastated.  He couldn’t bear the thought of being without Jason, but he knew Jason needed space, and he wasn't getting it living under the same roof as the Bat.

That was when Tim had sprung the idea of a ready furnished apartment on them.  The kid had been planning it all along, Dick could tell.  There was no way he had something like this outfitted at the spur of the moment.  Another reason why it was hard to decline.  He really loved Tim for what he did, even if he did it in a creepily manipulative way sometimes. 

Dick had been pondering these events, lost in thought, when Jason's voice broke through and brought him back to the present.

“I think that’s the last of the weapons.” Jason entered the stockroom and was pulling out a long case.  It was the sword that he had gotten from the Corinthian.  The one that shot fireballs.  Jason opened the case and looked at it with a blank expression before snapping it shut and stuffing it into a secured shelf.  He turned back to Dick, “I’m beat.  Why don’t we call it a day?”

Dick stepped around the stacks of boxes to put an arm around Jason, who responded by leaning in tentatively, testing Dick's receptiveness.   He smiled back before pulling Jason down into a full kiss.  

They shared moments like this more and more frequently.  They were getting back to what they previously had, and now Dick wanted to try again.  He broke the kiss momentarily and led Jason into the bedroom.  

Dick pulled them both onto the bed to lay on their sides, facing each other.   He hooked a leg around Jason’s and laced their hands together. 

“Make love to me, Jay,” Dick said, and not unexpectedly, Jason burst out laughing. 

“Did you just say that out loud, Dickie?”  Jason was teasing, but his smile was warm.  “I thought we talked about this.  Nobody actually fucking says that except virginal schoolgirls.  And you, apparently.”  He squeezed Dick’s hand at that last comment.

“I mean it,” Dick smiled back at Jason, unperturbed.  He was enjoying Jason’s mirth.  It had been so long since he had heard him laugh.  

Jason sobered a little, and leaned forward to brush his lips against Dick’s.  “Okay.”  He brought a hand up to stroke Dick’s face, “but promise me you’ll tell me as soon as you want to stop.”

“I promise,” and Dick closed the gap between them to deepen the kiss. His leg was still hooked around Jason's and he now brought it up higher towards Jason's hip, pulling them closer together and grinding himself against him.  He snaked a hand up under Jason’s shirt, feeling the hard planes of muscle, and the alternating textures of smooth and scarred skin.

Dick shifted, pushing Jason onto his back and lifting his shirt off.  Then loosened his belt and tugged at his jeans and boxers.  Jason lifted his hips and allowed Dick to undress him.  He was now laying naked on the bed with Dick straddling him.  The stab wound in his side was still slightly pink and puckered. In time, it would fade and join the silvery white patchwork of scars that decorated the rest of his body.  Jason didn't meet his eyes.  He was uncomfortable with Dick’s scrutiny, but he allowed it.

He looked beautiful, Dick thought.  Completely exposed and vulnerable.  This was Jason as he was truly, and it occurred to Dick how young he still was.  Too young to have gone through what he had.  Underneath the physical scars, the hard edge of his scowl and the sarcastic attitude, Jason hid an incredible amount of damage and hurt that he had never recovered from, and yet he had still been able to help Dick heal.  Dick wanted to help him heal in return, but the only way he knew how was to show Jason that he loved him.  That he trusted Jason to share intimacy again after having been brutally violated.  

Dick lifted off his own shirt as well and shifted to strip off his sweats and briefs, reaching over to the bedside drawer to pull out a bottle of lube.  He had been hopeful about this, and had taken the opportunity to stock their bedroom when they had been unpacking.  He repositioned himself atop of Jason and leaned down for kiss.  Jason had been keeping his hands to his sides, so Dick took them in his, transferred the bottle of lube into his hands and guided them down his buttocks.

“I’ll keep my promise, Jay, but I want to feel you again.  Like we used to.”  Dick pulled back and looked Jason in they eye.  They were both aroused, and Dick ground his hips down and Jason rolled his hips back, the friction and pressure sending tingling pleasure through his body.  “Open me up, Jay. Please.”

Jason slicked his fingers and complied, inserting a finger slowly, massaging his entrance, reaching his other hand to stroke Dick in rhythm.  Dick let out a pleasured gasp.  It felt good.  Really good.  And he felt himself easing around Jason’s fingers.  He closed his eyes, testing his own reaction, but he still felt it was Jason.  He trusted Jason, and he let Jason work him up.  He reached down to stroke Jason in return, slicking his cock with lube and pumping him with his hand.

“That’s good. That’s good, Jay.  Now.  I’m ready.  Please.”

Dick leaned down and rolled them onto their sides again, their legs scissored and Dick pulled one leg up so Jason could position himself.  He entered Dick slowly, giving him time to adjust, until he was buried inside fully.  Dick took a breath, allowing himself time to react.  Jason himself was trembling with restraint, his breathing carefully measured and deep, waiting for Dick to respond.

“I’m fine.  It’s good.  Really good,” Dick whispered, kissing Jason’s lips.  And Jason moved his hands to Dick’s lower back and started to move, slowly thrusting his hips.  In and out.  The beautiful feeling of being filled.  This was what Dick had missed -- this was what it had always meant to be between them, and Dick let himself sink into the pleasure.

He moved with Jason, meeting him as he thrust, and then moved to meet him a little faster, pushing Jason to quicken the pace.  He felt the tension building, moved a hand to stroke himself.  Their breaths were now a mix of hitched gasps and low moans, their kiss momentarily broken, but Dick brought their foreheads together, pulled back slightly so he could meet Jason’s eyes.

“It’s okay, Jay.  Come.  Come with me,” and Dick closed his eyes and felt himself release, spilling himself between them.  Jason gave a final thrust before burying himself deep inside Dick.  A warm feeling spread from inside him, and small spasms rocked both their bodies in the aftermath of their shared climax.  

They lay there a few moments, catching their breath, Dick nuzzled into Jason’s shoulder.  Jason still had his hands around Dick’s back, still had his cock buried deep.  Dick opened his eyes and was surprised to see Jason had tears in his eyes.

“What is it?  What’s wrong?”  Dick was alarmed.  Had he hurt Jason somehow?

“No.  I just….”  Jason leaned in and kissed him gently, breath still hitched and shaky, before pulling back again.  “Dick… I just….”  He swallowed, let out a breath, blinked the wetness from his eyes.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jay,” and Dick put his arms around him, holding him close.  Their chests were pressed together, and he could feel Jason’s heart beating against his, slightly off rhythm from his own, but together all the same.  Because this is what they had between them.  Trust.  Love.  He knew now.  This was how he could help Jason heal.  

Dick smiled warmly at Jason.  He knew everything was going to be okay.  And Jason, eyes a little red, smiled back in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- I wanted to spend some more time with Dick’s recovery, but also balance it with the fact that this story is first and foremost about Jason. So hopefully I managed to do a little of both.  
> \--- Did I just write that Jason could start healing by making sweet sweet love to Dick Grayson? Why yes. Yes I did :)


	19. Epilogue

~~~~ Bruce, in the dreaming ~~~

“Batman.  Bruce Wayne.  Welcome to the Palace of the Dreaming.”  The man, all in white, sat on a throne in a large hall.  He was solemn and austere, but he seemed much more at peace than the last time Bruce had seen him.  The memories had eluded him when he was awake, but now he remembered that he had appeared weary and stressed that time he had been here before.  When the man had told him where to find Jason after the strange girl had taken him from the cavern.  After the man had waved a hand and rendered Bruce unconscious.

When he had woken, the only thing Bruce had clearly remembered was the name of the hospital Jason had been taken to.  Whoever, or  _ what _ ever he was, he clearly mastered the manipulation of memory, so Bruce was wary as he addressed him.

“Lord of the Dream.  Thank you for seeing me,” Bruce stated. 

“Of course.  I commend you for the lengths you have gone to to seek my audience. No other mortal has done what you have, and in such a short period of time.”

Bruce had spent the last few months honing his ability to lucid dream.  He was not always successful, and he found that the most frustrating aspect of it was remembering what he experienced.  He would only be able to recall vague images after he woke, but never the full dream.

The memories would usually return when he was lucid dreaming again, and he had focused himself on shaping his dreams to reach the Palace of the Dream.   His research into the Endless hadn’t turned up as much as he had hoped.  The legends and mythos were not extensive, but he had found a collection of sigils that matched.  He focused on the one that represented Dream -- a symbol made up of a strange skull and spine -- and carved it into every surface he could lay his hands on in his dreams.

After repeated attempts, Bruce had been transported to a set of bone gates, at which point he had demanded the gates open. He was then led by a man with receding red hair into the Palace.  And now, he stood in the throne room, dressed as Batman, face to face with the Dream Lord himself. 

“I take it that you wish to speak to me about Jason,” Dream said.  He rested his temple against his hand, and looked at Bruce with his depthless eyes.

“Yes.  I want whatever it is that you have over him to end.  I want him to be left alone.”

Dream arched a brow, but was otherwise motionless.  “It is not that simple,” his voice was even and calm, but Bruce could tell he was not to be taken lightly. There was unmistakable power that resonated throughout the Palace, and Bruce knew the source of it was the man that sat before him.  

“Jason's abilities are unique and powerful,” Dream continued, “and he does not yet understand his full potential.  He has much to learn, and much more to do.  We may be of need of him again someday.”

“No!  That is not acceptable!”  Bruce raised his voice, anger surging forth. This place… something about it made it difficult to hide his emotions, and suddenly Bruce was seething. 

“Whatever it was you needed him for, he’s done enough.  _ You _ have done enough!”  Bruce took a step forward and pointed at Dream angrily.  “Whatever this was, it has caused too much damage. Jason isn't recovering. Dick was  _ raped _ .  And you let that  _ monster _ do the same to Jason. Repeatedly. Starting when he was just a  _ boy _ !”

Dream didn’t respond, but he straightened at the accusations, bringing his hand away from his temple to grip the arms of the throne. 

“Do you deny any of it?” Bruce spat.  He clenched his fists at his sides. 

“No, I cannot deny it,” Dream spoke softly. “I am guilty of what you have laid out, but you still do not understand.”

“Then tell me!  You were responsible for bringing him back, weren't you?  He was just a boy. And he died. We laid him to rest.”  Bruce's throat felt tight, and his voice choked up, but he continued. “Tell me what could have been so important that you would bring him back only to ruin him so completely!”  Bruce ripped off his cowl so he could look at Dream in the face. 

Dream however, was not intimidated.  His face darkened, and the air felt suddenly thick and heavy.  Bruce might have only been imagining it, but it was as if the room was also closing in.

“I admit my mistakes. He was in my care, and I did not protect him adequately.  I truly regret how this affected Jason, but you are not completely blameless either,” Dream turned his penetrating gaze to meet Bruce’s glare.  “You claim that he is your son, but instead of showing him the love and forgiveness he needed, you shunned him and treated him like one of your common criminals.  You directly contributed to his pain as well.  What do you say of your own actions?”

“He was murdering people. I couldn't overlook that. He had changed so much. I didn't recognize him.”  The words felt hollow to Bruce even as he said them. It didn't explain why he didn't try harder to understand what had happened to Jason. Why he hadn't done more to bring him back into the fold. They were excuses, and Bruce couldn’t deny it to himself here.  This place brought the hidden truths to the surface.  This man might have had a hand in tormenting Jason, but Bruce should have done more. He shouldn't have let Jason die in the first place. Bruce’s own failure to protect Jason was what gave the Endless the opportunity to exploit him. 

“And what would you say then,” Dream cut into his thoughts, “if I told you that he traded his soul, lost his sanity, and became a murderer as you have pointed out, only because he wanted to save you and your family. That something far more terrible would have happened to all of you, and to all of us, if he did not agree to this path.”

“I would say that's not fair.”  Bruce said with a feeling of anguish. Could it be true?  That Jason had sacrificed the only thing he had left when he died, his own soul, in order to save them?  Jason had died when he was just a boy. That kind of decision shouldn't have been put on him at all.  

Anger welled up in him again, and Bruce continued. “I would say you manipulated a vulnerable child who did not fully understand what he was committing to.  I would say that you used him for your own needs, that you willfully  _ abused _ him for years, and that the means don't justify the ends.”

“Even if it meant saving this entire world?  This entire universe?”  Dream retorted. 

Bruce paused at that.  He didn't have an answer.  If it were true, he wasn't sure that he wouldn't have done the same.  If it came down to saving the world, it didn't leave you many options.  But still, it shouldn't have been Jason.  He suffered too much for it, and Bruce now realized with a gnawing guilt that Jason had suffered too much because of him as well.  

Dream stood and approached.  “Come with me.”

Bruce followed him out of the throne room and into a disorienting set of turns through long halls. They reached some sort of gallery, where the strange sigils were framed and hung on the walls. In a far corner, there was some sort of flat display case. Dream gestured for Bruce to look at it.

The display case held a large piece of paper with small pictograms on it. Judging by the edges and what looked like the remnants of a binding, it was probably a page from a book. Upon closer inspection, Bruce deduced that the pictograms depicted Jason, starting from the moment he died. 

“What is this?  What is this supposed to mean?”  Bruce said in confusion. Was it meant to be some sort of memorial?

“Destiny laid out this path for Jason so that he could save all of us,” Dream replied.  “Everything I have said was true, but we did not know the outcome at the time. This page, and the testimony of my brother that this would be the least painful path out of infinite possibilities, was all we knew.”

Bruce stared at the page and let the words sink in.  It was true. Jason had only done what he had to save them, and the feeling of guilt and anguish that tormented Bruce only grew. 

“Jason has suffered the most in this,” Dream continued, “and we have tried to ease his pain, keeping him sane as best we could.  But what has happened has changed him, perhaps for all eternity.  I am sorry.”

“No,” Bruce felt his heart break at the thought of what Jason had sacrificed. He sank to his knees in despair. “It shouldn't have been Jason.  You should have chosen someone else. It was too much to ask.”

“No. He was the only one who could have done what needed to be done.”

“And it destroyed him.  He’s lost too much.”  Jason had only really recently regained enough sanity that Bruce started to recognize the boy he once knew. And he had watched helplessly as Jason’s mind started slipping away again ever since this whole ordeal had started.  He didn't know what to do to, but Jason needed help.  That was why Bruce had come here, because he needed to get to whoever was responsible for doing this in the first place.  “He’s done too much for you. It still needs to stop. If what you say is true, why aren't you helping him?”

“You believe I am not?  Preserving his sanity is no simple task. The mind is open and boundless in the Dreaming, but in the waking, it is limited. Closed. And Jason, his mind has been too heavily scarred.”  Dream paused and looked away.   A look of pain, and guilt, crossed his face.  Perhaps Bruce had misjudged him. Perhaps he cared more for Jason than Bruce had originally thought. 

Dream looked up at Bruce again, and his expression softened. “Jason has always wanted to remember in the waking. He has always wanted to reconcile himself, but the memories have been too much for him to bear.  The more he remembers, the more his mind breaks.  I am doing what I can, and ensuring that his mind remains intact here.”

“I see.”  Bruce churned that over in his head. “What about me?  Will I remember this when I wake?”

“I am sorry, no.  You will not.  It would not be fair.  I won’t allow it until Jason himself can fully cope with his own memories,”  Dream said adamantly.  He leveled his gaze at Bruce again, and his next words were spoken with discernment.  “Knowing this now, do you still blame him for his actions?  Do you still hold him accountable to your ideals?”

And there it was. Bruce understood what this was now. He was being judged, in the face of a god no less, and anything but the honest truth could mean disaster.  But Bruce wasn't worried about himself. He deserved to be judged for his part in Jason's suffering. He had been too harsh. Too judgemental and too unrelenting in trying to force Jason into the mold of his own ideals.  He had been too negligent even before Jason died.  If he had been there as he should have, maybe none of this would have happened at all. Jason wouldn't have had to sell his soul, wouldn't have had to commit the atrocities he had. He wouldn't have had to turn to the Corinthian to be consoled, and wouldn't have gone through so much hurt that he became so irreparably damaged.  Jason had only done this because he had been trying to do the right thing.  

“No,” Bruce replied honestly. “I don’t blame him for any of this.  How could I possibly… if I’d only known….”  He could have gotten his head out of his ass and actually  _ helped _ Jason.

“The damage is done, on both our parts,” Dream spoke, his tone contrite.  “However, he has never sought my approval as he does yours.  He does not like to admit it, but your estimation of him still holds power over him. It is not too late to help him heal.”

“I need to remember,” Bruce said, standing again,  desperation creeping into his voice.  “Please, I need to know enough to help him. I need to remember enough so that I can tell him I don't blame him for what he's done. So I can tell him to stop blaming himself.” 

Dream shook his head.  “No. I will not change my mind, but do not underestimate the power of the subconscious. I will allow you to speak with him here. Neither of you will remember in the waking, but you will know it here,” Dream gestured toward his heart. 

The doors suddenly opened, and there stood Jason, along with the girl with pale skin and dark hair. 

“Bruce?” he asked, the shock clear on his face.  He didn’t expect to see Bruce here.  He turned to Dream, “I don't understand. What's going on?”

“Jason,” Dream addressed him, “the pictograms have completed on the back of the page.  Please, come see.”

Bruce was surprised at that. Dream hadn’t mentioned anything about the back of the page, but something seemed to hold him back, and he only watched as the girl ushered Jason into the room and pushed him toward the case. Jason looked at Bruce, a look of concern on his face but he didn't speak either, and instead he opened the case and took out the paper.  He inspected it, and Bruce watched with alarm as the look of concern and puzzlement only grew.

“What the fuck?  What the hell does this mean?” he demanded, and handed the paper to Bruce. 

Bruce looked at the back of the page, and the pictograms depicted everything from the events at the cavern, to Jason waking at the hospital, all the way down to this very moment. The moment where Jason handed Bruce the piece of paper. 

Jason didn't know what it meant, but Bruce did. It was the end of the story.  The end of a long journey that had torn Jason apart and nearly destroyed him, scarring his every being down to his very soul, but that also gave him the chance to save his family.  He had saved the entire universe in fact.  And the ending… it was  _ open _ , Bruce thought. It allowed for the possibility for Jason to heal, to recover, and become whole again.   And now, it was up to Bruce to decide how it would go. 

“Jason,” Bruce stepped in front of him, put a hand on his shoulder. He paused to look Jason in the eye. He saw fear, trepidation, and pain. He was afraid, terrified even, of what Bruce would say. 

“Jason,” he said again, and took a breath.  “I won't offer forgiveness, because you don't need to be forgiven. I don't blame you for any of this. I’m sorry, Jason, and I can only hope that  _ you _ can forgive  _ me _ .”

Jason just stood there, unmoving for several moments, and Bruce was afraid that Jason wouldn't accept the apology.  That Jason still resented him too much, and he felt the guilt that had kept gnawing at him overwhelm him. 

“I’m sorry, Jason,” he said again.  “I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you.  I don't blame you for any of this. I couldn't.”  He would never be able to say it enough.

Jason sucked in a shaky breath and a wetness came to his eyes.  “I never wanted to hurt you, Bruce. Not really.  Not when I was here.  I loved you, even though I didn’t know what that meant.”  He blinked, and a tear trailed down his face.  “But when I came back, it was like you just threw me away.  Like I was the street trash everyone had always told me I was.”

Jason’s words felt like knives shredding Bruce’s heart, and he looked lost and distressed, like he did when Bruce had first taken him in.  

“No, Jason. No,” and Bruce couldn't stand it any longer.  He stepped forward and pulled Jason into a hug.

“I... Bruce….” Jason stuttered over Bruce’s shoulder.   He returned the embrace, and Bruce could feel he was trembling.  Jason took a breath before pushing away. “It’s okay. I don't… I don’t blame you either.”

“I should have told you before Jason, but you're still my son. You've always been part of the family.”

Bruce was back to putting a hand on his shoulder again.  “I'll try to be better, Jason.  I promise I  _ will _ do better. I don't want you to question whether or not I love you.”  Bruce surprised himself with his own words. It was as open and honest as he had ever been, like the emotional blockades he normally put up just weren't there. 

Jason gave him a knowing look and said, “It's okay.  I  _ know _ , believe me.  This place… it really fucks with you sometimes.”  He wiped at his eyes and shot Bruce a mischievous grin.  “So does this mean you promise to stop being such a douche all the time too?”   Jason wouldn't truly be Jason without a little snark, even here in the Dreaming, and Bruce found he welcomed it. It was good to finally see some of the old Jason back.

“I can't guarantee that without lying through my teeth,” Bruce replied.  “And it seems this place makes that difficult anyhow, but I promise I’ll try.”

“I can work with that,” Jason said.  The smile on his face seemed hopeful. 

Just then, Dream stepped forward to interrupt, raised a hand and said, “Good, now it is time for you to wake.”  

Bruce felt himself being pushed, and everything went black.

 

~~~~ Bruce, in the waking ~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce woke suddenly.  He had had a dream about Jason, and he thought perhaps he had been successful at achieving lucidity, but he couldn't remember the details.  Oddly enough, unlike the usual nightmares that usually involved Jason's horrific death or their more recent traumatic experiences, the dream had somehow left him feeling somewhat comforted. 

Jason and Dick had moved out a week ago, and the Manor seemed oddly quiet without them. He hadn’t wanted them to move out at all, and now the thought struck him that he wanted to see them again.  He grabbed his phone from his bedside, pulling up his contacts to text Dick. 

No. He would text Jason.  He wanted to see Jason especially.

_ You are expected for dinner at the Manor. Bring Dick. _

He hit send.  He felt a little anxious that Jason wouldn't respond.  They had been amicable when he moved out, but he was still extremely worried about his mental state.  He wanted to see more of him, to make sure he was alright.   And he wanted Jason to know the Manor would always be open to him.  

A moment later, his phone buzzed. A message back from Jason. 

_ Ok. See u tonight.  _

Good. That was good. Jason was coming back of his own volition.  Bruce felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders.  After everything that had happened between them, all the acrimony, blame and hurt, it seemed that the only thing he felt now was regret.  

But Jason was responding.  Jason was coming home again.  

Bruce sighed.  He hoped the events involving the Endless were behind them, but regardless, this wasn't the end of what the family had started with Jason.   This was just the beginning of something new, and Bruce wanted it to be a road to healing and recovery.  Feelings of guilt and remorse threatened to overwhelm him still, but it seemed there might be hope for him yet.  For Jason’s sake. And Dick’s. There was hope for all of them.  They would get through this and become something better, because they were a family. Bruce would see this through no matter what. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he seemed to remember he had wanted to do better....  Yes, in a dream.  He had a dream where he had promised Jason that he would do better.  

That was a promise he meant to keep.

 

 

~~~~~~\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\    End.    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Thanks readers! Please leave a comment, now that this is all over, and tell me what you think! If you liked, tell your fandom friends! I am seriously out of the loop on these things nowadays… don’t even get me started on how I don’t understand Tumblr….  
> \--- This was actually the first time I have written and posted a full length fic. When I started plotting this out, I did not expect it to be almost 70k words… yikes! I thought maybe it would be at most 10 chapters.  
> I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed your feedback as I was posting :) So thanks to everyone who commented :)  
> \--- I hope to post more stories. I have some ideas for a sequel maybe, and maybe some one shots. And maybe some unrelated JayDick stories. We’ll see I guess!


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